The Bitter Hug of Mortality
by She Who Cannot Be Turned
Summary: Harry is the younger brother of the Boy Who Lived and is a little strange. He hears voices no one else can hear, he knows things no one else should know and he's just this side of crazy. Oh, and everyone thinks he's a squib. When it comes to Harry, however, all bets are off and nothing is entirely certain.
1. Prologue

**Title**: The Bitter Hug of Mortality

**Rating**: R

**Summary**: Harry is the younger brother of the Boy Who Lived and is a little strange. He hears voices no one else can hear, he knows things no one else should know and he's just this side of crazy. Oh, and everyone thinks he's a squib. When it comes to Harry, however, all bets are off and nothing is entirely certain.

**Warnings**: Slash (if you don't like it, piss off), blasphemy, adult language, scenes of torture, war and death.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of this. Shocking, I know, but there you have it.

Prologue

Many years ago, there were three very different and unusual brothers with a strange talent. They all had the ability to commune with Death. They found they could talk with those that had already died. They could control any corpses that they brought out of the ground. Ghosts were solid to the touch to them and they could walk with spectres of the deceased when walking through cemeteries.

These brothers were called the Peverell's and were a well known family in the somewhat secluded and secret wizarding society. They were a prestigious, influential and rich family of purebloods but even in a world where magic was the norm and everyone could do incredible things, being able to hear the secrets of the deceased and control dead bodies was not something anyone else could do and so the Peverell brothers were revered and envied for their skills, but also feared.

However, there were those in the wizarding world who wanted to know the secrets of the Peverell's powers. They wanted the gifts they had supposedly been given by Death itself. So they plotted and they planned on how to gain those powers. But there are no secrets kept from the dead and the Peverell's were informed of the plot to gain their secrets.

What no one knew or even suspected was that their gift wasn't connected to the 'gifts' Death had given them. But those trinkets did have a purpose of their own and they knew it was only a matter of time before they lost them. So they made their own plan.

Only, they didn't make the plan in time. Before they could implement it, the oldest brother and owner of the Elder wand was murdered in his sleep. The wand disappearing along with his killer.

With the whispers of their brother in their ears, they decided to call upon the one who had given them their gifts. He had to know what was happening in the wizarding world. He had to know that there were people who wanted to have the supposed power over Him.

So He was called.

And a new plan was made.

No one would ever know their secrets or how they did what they did. No one would ever know the secrets of the dead again until one that Death found worthy of His gifts was born from the Peverell bloodline once more.

And so the remaining two brothers died. Leaving only a fairy tale and myth behind them.

And the secret to talk with the dead died with them.

Until another was finally born from the Peverell line with the ability and there was a necromancer once more in the world.

Shame no one knew what a necromancer was.

**A/N – Okay, so because it's so short, I'll be posting the next chapter very shortly! Let me know what you think! :D **


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

James hitched his fifteen month old son, Charlus, in his arms as he paced in the corridor outside of the hospital room his wife was currently giving birth in. His best friends, Sirius and Remus were watching his pacing with amusement, though all three men flinched a little when Lily gave another pained yell.

"Is it supposed to be taking this long? It didn't take this long with Charlie. Do you think something is wrong? What if something is wrong?" James asked, smiling weakly at Charlus when the boy babbled wordlessly and patted his face.

"I'm sure it's fine. They would have told you if there was something wrong, James," Remus told him soothingly, though all three men glanced at the door when there was another almighty yell and then an ominous silence.

Just before James could go into a panic and storm the room to find out what had happened, they all heard the sound of a baby crying.

"I should go in there. Sirius, hold Charlie for me, would you? We'll call you in when Lily says it's okay!" James said, handing his son to Sirius before he ran into the hospital room.

As soon as he entered, he saw his beautiful wife holding their newest child in her arms, a wide smile on her face when she saw James standing in the doorway.

"James! Come meet your youngest son, Harry," Lily said, shifting slightly so that James could see a curl of jet black hair and pink skin.

"A son? I have another son? He's so cute!" James gushed, hurrying over and gently taking Harry out of Lily's arms. He smiled widely before frowning when Harry's eyes blinked open and he blearily looked in James' direction. "Is there… is there something wrong with his eyes?"

With that question, there was a flurry of healers and nurses entering the room, and James and Lily only able to sit there and watch as their son was examined by seemingly every healer in the hospital. After what felt like a lifetime where they knew nothing and could only hope their son was okay, the head healer walked over to the bed Lily was lying in and cleared his throat, gaining their attention.

"Lord and Lady Potter-"

"What's wrong? Is there something wrong with Harry? Is he going to be okay?" Lily asked urgently, not letting the healer actually tell them what he knew.

"There is something wrong with Harry's eyes, like Lord Potter thought. I'm sorry to have to tell you, but your son has aniridia, which means that he has no iris. Now, we can't tell you how this will affect him as he grows up, but we can tell you that he will be photophobic."

"What does that mean?"

"He won't be able to take in lots of light so make sure he's kept in low-light rooms and as he gets older, you'll need to make him wear sunglasses and hats whenever he's outside. Sadly though, this is also a sign of something else."

"What do you mean? There's something else wrong with him?" James asked, looking over the healer's shoulder to where a nurse was holding Harry.

"Yes, well, with degenerative diseases such as these, they are generally a sign of something else. You see, our magic makes us immune to most muggle genetic illnesses and so when a child is born with one… I'm afraid to tell you, Lord and Lady Potter, but your son being born with aniridia is a sign that he may be a squib."

* * *

The next year, it was safe to say, was full of strife and stress. Not only had they been told that their youngest son was possibly a squib and could also go blind if put into bright light, but their oldest son was the target of the current Dark Lord and had forced the four Potter's to go into hiding.

On Harry's first birthday, everything came to a head and the Potter's were betrayed to Lord Voldemort. It just so happened however, that both Lily and James had had to leave their sons with a babysitter - and given Peter was the only one who knew where they lived, they had to trust him with their sons - as they had to meet with Dumbledore to discuss their youngest son's future as it had been confirmed the month before that he was indeed a squib.

The Potter parents had only been gone for thirty minutes when Peter, who was getting a little freaked out by the youngest Potter as he kept staring at Peter like he knew what he was going to do, gave a small shuddering sigh and jumped up to open the front door.

"M-master." Peter moved aside to allow a tall, serpentine looking man with bright red eyes and a malevolent aura enter the house. The man just sneered at Peter and walked into the hallway, pausing in front of the living room, where the two Potter children were playing.

Well, Charlus was playing. Harry seemed to be just listening to something only he could hear and freaking out Peter.

"Pettigrew. I assume the two older Potters are away?"

"Y-yes, master."

"Well done. Unfortunately, I have no need for someone who will be as wanted as you will soon be. _Avada Kedavra_," Voldemort watched emotionlessly as Pettigrew's body dropped to the floor, the horrified expression frozen on his face in death. Without giving his now dead follower a second thought, Voldemort pushed the door to the living room open and stepped inside, pausing when he noticed both young Potters sitting in a large play pen.

Both boys stopped what they were doing when Voldemort entered the room and turned to look at him, the youngest shakily stood on his legs and toddled over to lean on the side of the pen nearest to Voldemort. Voldemort stared at the small child and gave a small thought as to why the boy had a pair of dark sunglasses on before he turned his attention to the prophecy child, Charlus Potter.

"Ba, Wormy!" Voldemort glanced at the younger child, a child Pettigrew had told him was a squib, and frowned when he noticed the child was now pouting at something only he could see, and Voldemort suddenly felt a shiver run up his spine. There was something very wrong with that child.

"Charlus Potter. It is said you will be my downfall. Shame I got to you before you could really grow into your power. Still, I'm not heartless, I'll leave your squib brother alive," Voldemort muttered with another wary glance at the supposed squib who was now babbling at something else he could only see and was paying no attention at all to his brothers soon to be demise. "Perhaps you could have grown to be something incredible. Shame I can't allow that to happen. _Avada Kedavra!_"

It happened in a matter of seconds, so fast that Voldemort barely managed to grasp what had happened, but just as he uttered the words that would kill Charlus, the younger of the two gave a delighted scream and reached for the green light. However, he was too small and too slow, and the spell hit Charlus' forehead, making the older toddler scream in pain. Unfortunately for Voldemort, that wasn't the end of it as the spell suddenly rebounded, Harry giggling and clapping happily over his brother's wails of pain and the sudden scream of rage and pain that Voldemort gave as his rebounded spell hit him and made his body disintegrate. His soul lingered just long enough for him to hear the strange Potter child's parting words before he fled the scene.

"Ba ba, Tom!"

* * *

"Harry! Harry, baby, come here. We need to go to Diagon Alley, honey, so I need to put on your hat and glasses," Lily said to her youngest son, who was currently sitting facing the corner in the family library seemingly whispering to himself.

After that night, where their little Charlie had defeated Lord Voldemort and almost destroyed their house in the backlash of magic, they had decided to move away from the bad memories and move into the ancestral Potter Manor - a place James hadn't originally wanted to live in as he'd claimed it was too large for their small family. Though when Sirius and Remus had both said they would move in with them as live-in babysitters, they had all thought it would be the best plan.

So now, five years down the line, the four Potters and the two godfathers of their children were all happily living in the Potter Manor, and Lily couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt whenever she saw her beautiful little baby boy. Her baby boy that was unlucky enough to have been born magicless in a family of powerful wizards.

Of course, Lily tried to treat him the same as she treated her other children, herself and James having been blessed with a pair of twin girls - Rose and Dahlia - two years ago, but there was a small voice in the back of her head that whispered that there was something very wrong with Harry. And it wasn't the fact that he could possibly go blind if he went outside without sunglasses and a hat on.

Harry was very quiet for a six year old. He preferred his own company and was very soft spoken. He was a beautiful little boy, with milky white skin and jet black hair that, thankfully, wasn't cursed with the Potter crows nest mess. His eyes, when they weren't hidden behind dark glasses, made a shiver go up her spine though. The fathomless black depths always seemed too old for the baby face they were set in and she was sure he knew things no child should ever know.

Despite all this though, Lily loved him just as much as she loved her other children and perhaps deep deep down, she favoured him a tiny bit. But she couldn't help but fear she was being cruel to him by keeping him in a world he couldn't truly be a part of. She wondered if her friends were right and it would be kinder to just give him away.

"Mummy? Cad said to embrace Charlus' skill with snakes. He said it would be silly to fear it," Harry told her quietly, standing there placidly as Lily knelt in front of him to place his darker sunglasses on and a small sun hat on his head.

That was another thing that made Lily wonder about her little boy. He knew things that no one else knew about before they happened. And he had, imaginary friends was the only term she could think of that fit best and even then it didn't seem right. However, Harry spoke of these people like they were real and they apparently told him things that helped both herself and James at times. She wondered what was going to happen that day with Charlie that Harry seemed important to prepare them for. Or 'Cad' had at least.

"Okay, honey. You know we'd never fear anything you or your siblings could do, right? Come on then, baby boy, let's get to the floo room, hopefully Daddy, uncle Padfoot and uncle Moony have managed to get your brother and sisters ready, hmm?" Lily said with a smile as she picked up her tiny - because he really was and Lily was beginning to worry about his growth development as well now - son and carried him to the floo room. She gave a small sigh of relief when she saw that her husband and their friends had indeed managed to corral their kids together in time, and with a small warning for Harry to hold his breath, she flooed them both to the leaky Cauldron.

* * *

Hearing her oldest child hissing at a small snake in the petshop made Lily feel like someone had injected liquid ice into her veins and she couldn't help but think back to the almost whispered warning Harry had given her. Somehow he had known that Charlus was a parselmouth and it would possibly be discovered that day. However, she also remembered that she had told Harry she wouldn't fear any talent they had and seeing Harry standing next to his big brother, watching her with a wary air about him, she realised this would show him whether she meant what she said or not.

So, taking a deep breath and looking around to make sure that no one else was paying attention - just because she wasn't going to fear it, didn't mean the rest of the wizarding world wouldn't vilify her son for it - Lily walked over to her two sons and knelt down next to them so she was at a similar height to them.

"Have you made a friend, sweetie?" Lily asked quietly, looking at Charlus who was looking from Harry to her with a mix of guilt and fear on his face.

"Cad said you should get Charlus the snake. He said it'll help. Charlus, you should get the black snake. He'll help you," Harry added with a small nod, getting a mirroring nod from his older brother, who carefully stepped passed Harry an stood in front of a tank with a small jet black snake in it.

"Are you sure about this, Harry? Charlus? Do you think you'll be able to look after him? He'll be your responsibility," Lily said, not entirely sure about the whole thing but then, Harry had never set her wrong yet. And yes, she was well aware of the absolute insanity of taking advice from a six year old boy.

"Harry said that Cad said I should! Cad knows, mummy! I promise to look after him! Honest!"

"Okay then, sweetie. Is there anything in here that you'd like, Harry? I think you're old enough for a pet as well, if you want one."

"No. I'll get one when I'm older. Cass says I'll need one to stay in touch," Harry whispered, his attention once more on something just over Lily's shoulder and no longer on her. Lily couldn't help but feel a small sense of foreboding in those words.

In fact, it was only James insisting that there'd never been a seer in the Potter family and the talent generally didn't show in squibs that put Lily's fears that her son had the curse of foresight to rest. She was still adamant that there was something unusual about Harry though, she just didn't know what.

* * *

As the years passed and it came nearer and nearer to the time when Harry wouldn't get the letter every wizarding child excitedly waited for the night before their eleventh birthday, Lily found herself spending more and more time with Harry. Though admittedly, they weren't always doing anything together. In fact, Harry loved to just sit silently in the library, leaning against Lily's legs as she read - sometimes aloud and sometimes to herself - and Lily would admit that perhaps she was showing that Harry was her favourite. Not that she didn't love all her children, just Harry was special.

Plus, she knew that Harry would one day be sent away from her and she'd possibly never see him again. James, Sirius and Remus all already distanced themselves from Harry. It pained Lily to see that James clearly no longer saw Harry as his son. That Remus no longer viewed Harry as his cub and godson. The only bright side that Lily could see was that it didn't seem to affect Harry. If anything, he seemed to have expected it to happen.

As Harry's eleventh birthday loomed ever nearer, as they all waved Charlus off for his first year, and then second year at Hogwarts, all knowing that Harry wouldn't be going, Lily felt fear rising in her throat. The time she'd have to give up her baby was getting closer and closer, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She knew James was a pureblood and had been raised as one, as much as he didn't show the same prejudices that many purebloods did and that he didn't seem to follow the old ways, Lily knew James had the same view on squibs that every pureblood did. They were worthless and a blight on the family tree. And they were to be sent away as soon as possible. By their eleventh birthday at the latest.

So, Lily made sure she spent as much time with Harry as possible, teaching him and the twins - because it was just practical to teach her daughters at the same time - all the muggle subjects she could think of that she had some basic knowledge of and buying Harry any books she could think of that would help him. She felt a burst of pride every time Harry breezed through a subject until he surpassed what she could teach him.

And then, by the end of the October of Harry's eleventh year, Lily at least felt assured that she had taught Harry everything he would need so he wouldn't be behind in the muggle world. Now she just had to wait for the time James brought up the inevitable.

* * *

"Lily, I know you don't want to hear it, but we've got to discuss what to do with Harry. It isn't fair to keep him in our world anymore. His Hogwart's letter never came and in three years time he'll be forced to watch his sisters go to a school he'll never be able to go to as well. Lils, I think… I think we're being cruel to him, forcing him to live surrounded by something he'll never be able to use." Lily closed her eyes in despair as she listened to James, aware that what he said was the truth. However, she didn't want to abandon her baby. She just knew that her little boy wasn't like other muggles and squibs and he wouldn't be accepted in that world either.

"I know what you're saying, James, but he's my baby."

"I know, Lils. He's my son too, you know? But every day we thoughtlessly use magic in front of him, taunting him with something he can't use. And his siblings will all soon be going to a school he can't go to. Getting jobs in a world he won't be accepted in. He can't stay here, Lils."

"I can't give up my baby, James."

"What then? We can't keep him here! It's not fair!"

"I… I know."

"Good. So we can just… Dumbledore told me of a couple of nice orphanages that would take him in. Apparently they're both run by squibs and are where families tend to leave any squibs born in their family. They'll take him in and… and teach him what he'll need to know to succeed as a muggle-"

"No."

"Lils! You just agreed to give him up!" James said, exasperation clear in his tone.

"No, I never. I said we can't keep him in the magical world, I said nothing about just abandoning him and making him feel as though we don't want him anymore."

"Than what, Lils? What other option do we have? Your sister? She hates you and she'll hate Harry too!"

"I know! I wasn't even considering Petunia. However, I have an aunt. Well, she's my great-aunt actually, but we've kept in touch. She was the only one outside of Pet and my parents that knew I was a witch. She claimed she always knew. Anyway, I can contact her and ask her if she'll let Harry live with her. That way… that way, I can still keep in touch with him and he'll still be my son."

"If you're sure, Lily."

"I am. Aunty Sylv will take good care of him and this way he'll be able to stay in touch with us. Obviously we'll have to set up a monthly stipend to pay her so she and Harry can comfortably live without having to worry about money. I'll contact her in the morning and then we'll have our answer."

"And if she can't take him in?"

"Well… then I guess we'll have to leave him in one of the orphanages Dumbledore recommended," Lily whispered, frowning as she thought of her old headmaster. She didn't trust him. He'd been trying to convince her to get rid of Harry since they'd learnt he was a squib and he was far too interested in Charlus for her comfort. However James near idolised the man and wouldn't hear anything against him. She prayed that her aunt would be able to take Harry in, that way at least one of her children were out of that man's grasp.

* * *

A week later and the day Lily had dreaded had arrived. Thankfully her aunt had come through and had said she would be delighted to take Harry in. Even when Lily had told her of Harry's medical issues. In fact, Sylv had almost demanded that she leave Harry with her, reassuring Lily that she'd love her son like he was her own.

So here Lily was, all Harry's clothes and belongings in a couple of trunks, shrunk in her pocket, and Harry held tightly on her hip as she apparated to her great aunt's house. She reluctantly knocked on the door, glancing at Harry - who was silent as usual and gave off a solemn aura - before turning back to the door when it opened and a short, thin lady in her sixties with dyed light blonde hair and kind pale blue eyes stood there, smiling widely at them.

"Lily! And this must be little Harry! Come in, both of you! Would you like something to drink?" Sylv asked, leading them through the small cottage, into the front room, motioning for them to take a seat.

"A glass of water for us both would be great, thanks Aunty Sylv," Lily said, taking a seat on a comfortable two seater faux leather sofa and shifting so that Harry could disentangle himself from her and take the seat next to her. "You okay, honey?"

"Yes. Will Erebus get here soon?" Harry asked quietly, shifting closer to Lily even as he twisted to look at the window behind them as though looking for the owl Lily had bought him two days before.

"I don't know, honey, but I shouldn't think it'll take him too long to get here. And you know to use him to send us letters, okay? I want to hear about everything you do," Lily told him, smiling sadly when he just nodded silently and twisted back around to sit properly as Sylv walked into the room with a tray in her hands.

"So, you two! Given there's only about a month of term left in school, I spoke to the headmaster of the local primary school and he was happy to interview Harry and hopefully get him started in the spring term, in January. I also spoke to him about Harry's disability, but he said it was nothing to worry about and he'd speak to Harry's teacher about any needs Harry might have," Sylv told them after they'd got the pleasantries out of the way and had finished getting caught up about random and senseless things.

"Is it a good school, do you know?"

"It is. And there are a couple of secondary schools nearby that he'll be going to next year, each of them having good ofsted reports. One is a private school that you can test to get in to, but we can cross that bridge when we get there. Of course you'll be free to visit any time you like, unless we're away, and I'll teach Harry the ropes of my bakery. Maybe teach you how to bake, hmm, Harry?"

"Ant says that would be fun," Harry quietly said with a small smile before looking away once more at something in the corner of the room. Lily just glanced from him to Sylv with a small, slightly strained smile on her face.

"Harry, baby, why don't you go look at your room? I just want to talk to Aunty Sylv about something, then we'll come up with your things, okay?" Lily asked him, smiling when Harry just turned to look at her and then nodded.

"It's the room on the left at the top of the stairs. It's currently light green, but we can redecorate it to your liking next week, okay?" Sylv told him, getting another nod from Harry before he left the room quietly.

Lily waited until she could hear Harry's quiet steps up the stairs before she turned to Sylv, who was staring at her, waiting for whatever it was Lily wanted to talk about.

"Harry's… he's not like any other child I know. He's quiet and he… he knows things that no one should be able to know. If it was possible, I'd say he was a seer, but it's not. Plus he doesn't show any other signs. I just… I worry about him. I know he'll be fine, but I swear he sees things and hears things that aren't there. And he talks about people I've never met and I know Harry can't have met. I wonder if they're imaginary, but then they seemingly tell him things he can't know about. I know everyone says he's just a squib and I'm well aware that James has brushed his hands of him, but deep down, I know there's something about Harry. I don't… I don't think he's human," Lily admitted for the first time, finally just letting out all of her fears and thoughts about her youngest son, and hoping she didn't just come across as totally insane.

"Lily… what do you mean?"

"He's not a squib. I don't care what anyone says, but I know he's not. I just don't think he has magic like I do. You'll see what I mean as you get to know him, but Harry has this aura to him that screams of creature inheritance. I got the goblins to secretly look into the Potter family tree for me, for any possible creatures that maybe Harry could have inherited the blood of, but they couldn't tell me anything. Apparently the Potter's changed their name from something else several generations ago, but the goblins don't know what it was. Just, will you treat him like he's normal? Don't make him feel like he's a freak or something, please?"

"You know I wouldn't do that, Lily. Now, what do you mean you did this secretly? What's going on with James?"

"He's a pureblood. Purebloods wipe their hands of squibs. Harry's lucky that I forbade James from disinheriting him and striking him from the family tree. I told James that I'd leave him and take the kids with me if he did that, so Harry will still have a vault of money in Gringotts if he ever needs it. Oh, I've set up a monthly payment of two thousand pounds, but if you need more for anything at all, then just let me know and I'll transfer it to you!"

"Lily, that'll be more than enough. In fact, I'll probably set up a savings account and put the excess in there for Harry to use when he's a bit older. I'm guessing, from what you just said, that James won't be visiting with you at all."

"No. I think he was relieved when it was finally time for Harry to leave. Honestly, I'm relieved, but only because it means Dumbledore won't be able to control one of my children. The other three, I fear for. Luckily, Dumbledore doesn't know anything about you and James wasn't interested enough to find anything out, so he won't be able to find you."

"Why would that be a worry?"

"Dumbledore is… he's very influential in the wizarding world and sadly, he's seen as some sort of second coming. He can do no wrong and everyone turns a blind eye to his faults. And let me be honest, he has many faults. He's controlling and he likes that everyone views him as the Light Lord. I fear for my oldest because Dumbledore is far too interested in him and I'm worried that he sees Charlie as his weapon in any upcoming war. I'm scared about my little girls when they go to Hogwarts and the only relief I've got is that Harry is away from any influence."

"I assume James sees Dumbledore as faultless?"

"You assume right."

"Well, I'll keep Harry as safe as I can and I'll raise him to not suffer any fools, don't you worry about that. And of course, you can bring your other children here every summer to get them away from that mans influence, if only for a few days a year."

"That's true. Thank you for this, Aunty Sylv. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't able to take him in," Lily admitted in a quiet voice, glancing over at the door Harry had left through as she felt a stab of fear that he'd be taken away from her.

"I'll treat him like he's my own, Lily, have no fear there."

"When he's seventeen… traditionally, wizards and witches come into a sort of inheritance on their seventeenth birthday where their magical core increases and those that have dominant creature blood in their veins will transform, so to speak. On his seventeenth, I think whatever he is will come to light. If, for whatever reason I can't be here, can you just make sure he's safe in his room and don't let anyone in there, okay? And if it's a physical change, then either send me an owl so I can put a glamour on him or owl the goblins and they'll know what to do. Keep him safe, Aunty Sylv. I'm no seer, but I have a feeling deep inside that he's special. And I'm scared for him."

"I'll keep him safe, Lily. And I'll make sure he knows you did what you could to protect him. Whatever happens, I'll try to make sure he's prepared for it however I can."

"Thank you. We'd better head up to Harry now as I'll need to leave soon. I don't trust Sirius not to burn down the house, especially when he's alone with the twins."

* * *

**A/N - Aniridia is indeed an ailment that means you are born without an iris. It can lead to several degenerative eye problems, such as long/short-sightedness, blindness, cataracts and other things, but in Harry's case, as you may have picked up on, it isn't aniridia in the muggle sense of the term. It's also a sign of a necromancer, but seeing as the Peverell brothers were the last known necromancers and all information has since vanished, then no one knows this.**

**Also, contrary to many fanfics, the average height of a male in Britain is about five foot nine (I think, it might be taller now, but it was certainly nearer that in the late nineties). Harry is, admittedly, shorter than that and he won't grow taller than five foot four. However, this doesn't make him a freak and it's actually quite a normal height. My dad was only five foot four for example. You'll later learn a bit more about necromancers and find this is also a normal height for them. So no reviews about how Harry's freakishly small. Or about how I'm making him small so he'll be the submissive/bottom in a slash relationship. FYI, I could make Harry eight foot and he'd still be the bottom in a relationship. That's how I write him. Being short does not make you meek and mild. Like I said, my dad was five foot four and he was anything but meek and mild. He was a black belt in karate, a weapons master and Scottish. Enough said. XD So yeah, just heading off any whiny reviews about Harry's height. They're boring and I really have better things to do than read them. Cheers! **

**Next chapter there'll be a big time jump to where Harry's an adult. I'm not going to write his school years because he'll be going to a muggle school and I think we all spent enough years there to get a basic idea of what he went through. **

**Oh, not sure when I'll have the next chapter up. It's already written but I'm off to London tomorrow (going to see Monty Python!) and I also don't have the internet at my house (I'm currently using my mums). It shouldn't be too long, hopefully, but I thought I'd give you a heads up! **


	3. Chapter 2

**Before this chapter starts, I'd just like to say that a) judging by reviews, this is totally not going to be what you expect and b) you need to just forget all your preconceptions about necromancers. In this, a necromancer is a whole different species. Literally. :)**

* * *

Chapter Two

It was five thirty in the morning and Harry sleepily stumbled to turn on the ovens in the kitchen of his little bakery that his great aunt and guardian had left to him in her will two years previously. Harry had been a little sad when she'd died, but he'd soon perked up as he knew it wasn't like he'd never see or hear from her again. In fact, she was still as bossy as ever even in death.

Harry loved his little bakery, and sure it didn't have many customers in the small town - which was more a village, but according to Mr Shilatoh, had too large a population to be called one - of Little Hangleton. A town where pretty much everyone knew everyone else, and thankfully everyone loved the little bakery Harry owned. It probably helped that it was the only one in town but Harry like to think it was also his amazing baking skills.

Quickly putting in several different types of bread to bake, he'd made the dough the night before and left to temper, and then setting up everything on the side that he'd need to make all the cakes he would hopefully sell that day, Harry took a glance at the clock, obsidian beads tied in his hair clicking as he moved, and then slumped a little as the late night he'd foolishly had caught up with him.

_"Told you that you should have gone to bed, daft beggar. Now, don't forget Mrs Lovage will be coming in today to discuss making her monthly cake for the WI meeting, so make sure you have some strawberry tarts ready for her to demolish."_

"Yes, Aunty Sylv," Harry mumbled, quickly grabbing the hair band he kept by the sink and putting it on to keep his hair out of his face and out of the food, then putting a white sun cap on over that.

_"I've told you that it should be black. It ruins the whole thing. You should only be wearing black! I swear, kids these days. Do you ever listen to me?"_

"I always listen to you, Uncle Ignotus," Harry mumbled, carefully weighing out the ingredients he'd need to make the first batch of cupcakes.

If anyone was observing what was happening in the kitchen of the small and only bakery in Little Hangleton, they would have been both confused and probably a little disturbed, because Harry was alone and yet was seemingly having a conversation with someone only he could see.

Everyone in the small town was aware that Harry was odd, but then so were a lot of people in the town and no one had yet come to the heights of weirdness that an old family called the Gaunts had reached, so no one there really said anything about it. It helped that everyone liked the young man and felt slightly protective of him due to thinking he was possibly a little unhinged. His added disability also helped to endear him to the kinder-hearted samaritans of Little Hangleton.

Harry came across as completely helpless and harmless, at only five foot three with pale white skin that told anyone who met him that he didn't go out in the sun all too much. He had jet black hair that was cut into shoulder length bob reminiscent of the egyptians, that also had small obsidian beans knotted into randomly placed strands of hair. A hair style that was traditional for his kind according to Uncle Ignotus. He also always wore black clothing, another tradition apparently. All of this tied together with his soft spoken voice and his disability making him photophobic just made him all together unthreatening and seemingly screaming out for someone to look after him.

Of course, if you were to ask Harry's opinion, he'd laugh in your face - in a gentle, quiet way - and then carry on with his conversation with someone only he could see.

The truth of the matter was that Harry was far from defenceless and if people knew what he was, they'd be terrified of him. Which is why he was quite happy for anyone who met him to think he was a defenceless muggle baker.

He was, in fact, a necromancer. Someone who had death in their veins according to Uncle Antioch, though Harry always thought that man was a little too dramatic for his own good. Really, his demise shouldn't have shocked anyone.

_"Make sure you put that in the freezer for a few minutes before adding the orange juice. You know it makes a better pastry that way,"_

"Aunty Sylv, I've been doing this for the last four years. I graduated from culinary school two years early! Come on, can't you trust me just a little?"

_"No. Besides, you cheated."_ Harry sighed at the blunt answer from his very blunt aunt and her observation. He hadn't cheated, he'd just… asked for help. Admittedly, the help was from dead professors, teachers and chefs, but it was just the same as asking for help from the living. And sure he loved her, but he wondered how he had ever survived being raised by someone who didn't hold their punches.

The next two hours passed fairly smoothly as Harry baked everything he would need for that day, shamelessly using the advantage of speaking with the dead and thus the departed relatives of anyone who might be visiting that day to make sure that he had their favourites on display, and eventually, as it turned eight in the morning, Harry unlocked the front doors and took a seat behind the counter, absently listening to the chatter of the dead, and chuckling occasionally when someone said something amusing.

As the morning passed, the regulars that Harry had been expecting slowly trickled in at random intervals, each one telling him different bits of gossip that they'd overheard and being overjoyed when Harry told them his own pieces of gossip _he'd_ overheard - admittedly from dead people - and then Mrs Lovage came in with her extravagant bright purple hat that had a possibly real dead animal wrapped around it. What animal it was, Harry couldn't tell you, but it was certainly fascinating and Harry found it hard to take his eyes away from it whenever she entered the shop.

"Hello, Mrs Lovage! I made some strawberry tarts today thinking of you, it must be fate! I used fresh strawberries from my garden picked early this morning! Would you like one?" Harry asked her cheerfully as soon as she walked in the door.

"Oh, Harry, you are a dear. I'll take one and a nice cup of milky tea, then we can discuss what cake I'd like you to make for me this month if that's okay?" Mrs Lovage asked him with a wide smile that showed Harry her pink lipstick stained teeth - teeth he was pretty sure weren't real but Mr Lovage refused to actually say for fear Mrs Lovage would find out when she died and make his afterlife a living hell… so to speak.

_"Don't forget to use soya milk. I love her dearly, but there was many a night I wished we had separate beds when she'd had cows milk._ Harry felt his lips twitching in amusement as he quickly turned his back on Mrs Lovage to make her tea.

"I'll just have your tea ready in a minute. If you'd like to take a seat at your regular table, I'll be over with the tea and tart then we can discuss ideas you've had," Harry told her with a quick glance over his shoulder. Mrs Lovage just sent him another wide smile and a nod, then walked over to her regular table - which was really only one of two small tables that he had in the store front. He also had another similar table in the back that he placed outside on sunny summer days when he could be bothered. Most of the time he couldn't be bothered though.

He quickly and efficiently made Mrs Lovage's milky tea - which was just regular darjeeling tea with copious amounts of milk. In fact Harry pretty much just scared the hot water and milk with the thought of a tea bag for all that he used one - and then plated up a strawberry tart before he carried both the tea and the tart over to Mrs Lovage and placed them down in front of her before taking the other seat at the other side of the small round metal table.

"So, do you have any ideas for what kind of cake you'd like this month?" Harry asked once she'd taken a sip of her tea and a bite of the tart.

"Well, I thought, given it's raspberry season, that it should have some fresh raspberries in it. Other than that, I don't have a clue," Mrs Lovage told him before returning to her tart and promptly demolishing it in a manner that was both terrifying for any watching cake and yet impressively polite.

"I do have a nice batch of raspberries growing in the garden, though I am regretting planting the bloody thing given it's slowly taking over the bottom of my garden. Thankfully I didn't have the bright idea to plant some blackberry bushes as well, or I wouldn't have a garden left. Still, I suppose I could think of something to make with fresh raspberries as the focus point. When would you need it by?"

"Monday, if that's okay with you?"

"That'll be fine! So, anything new with you? Did you hear that Mrs Baker's daughter gave birth to a little boy last week? Apparently she'll be bringing him down for her mother to see when she's recovered a bit more," Harry told her, sitting back in his seat as Mrs Lovage perked up at the gossip Harry was always happy to part with.

"Oh really? That's lovely! Though I swear that poor girl was pregnant for twelve months. It seemed quite a while ago that Betty told me about her daughter being pregnant. Oh! That reminds me, apparently someone's moved into the old Riddle Manor! Shocking stuff that happened up there! I can't believe old Frank was a suspect for their murder! And then the poor man died of a heart attack about eight years ago. Terrible business."

_"Bloody heart attack?! Weren't a bloody heart attack! That monster killed me with his freaky magic spells! Bloody magic! No one told me I had to be wary of bloody magic!"_

"Really? Do you know who it is that's bought the manor? I thought it still belonged to the family," Harry added musingly, recalling speaking to one of the Riddle's that had lived up there before the messy business with the Gaunts happened.

_"Damned right it belongs to the family! Not that there is any family left! I refuse to accept that monster into my family! Knew those Gaunts were a shady lot! Bewitching my son into impregnating her!"_ Really Harry would rather be left out of family affairs, but he did silently admit it gave good gossip.

"Well, that's the scandal! Apparently it's the grandson of young Tom Riddle and that Gaunt girl! I remember her when I was a girl, shocking business! Well anyway, apparently when they ran off together, he actually got her pregnant! Imagine! So no one knows what happened with the son, but now the grandson, called Marvel or Marvin or something like that, he's showed up out of nowhere and claimed the family fortune! Now he's moved into the manor with several servants and is building the whole place up! I haven't seen him mind, but Lucy - you know Lucy, don't you? Lovely thing, looks like a stiff wind will blow her over! Married a great brute of a man. Surprised he didn't break her when they consummated their marriage! - Anyway, she claims he's quite the handsome man. Not that you can take her word for it, she does find her own husband handsome after all," Mrs Lovage added, much to Harry amusement.

_"You know who she's talking about, don't you? He's rather famous in the other world."_

_"I think you mean infamous, brother mine._" Harry withheld a sigh when Antioch and Ignotus started bickering and turned his attention back to Mrs Lovage.

"Would you like another tart, Mrs Lovage? And I'm sure Mr Riddle will find his way into my bakery at some point in the near future, everyone always does. So when that happens I'll make sure to take note of how he looks and tell you what I think," Harry added with a small smile.

"Oh would you? That's brilliant! And yes, I think I will have another tart. You do make the best! Now, tell me, anything new in your life? Found anyone to share that lovely little cottage with finally?" Mrs Lovage asked him as he quickly made his way back behind the counter to get her second tart of the day, and hopefully not last.

"No no, you know me, heading for permanent bachelor status. I don't think there are many who would really want to put up with me," Harry said with a small smile and a shrug, silently adding that there weren't many he would be willing to put up with either. He generally preferred talking with the dead than the living.

"Oh now, don't be putting yourself down! You've just got a few hurdles in life that you've got to conquer! Doesn't make you any less of a catch! Besides, those glasses and dark look you've got are very in right now, apparently. I bet there are lots of young girls out there that would find you just delicious!" Mrs Lovage told him, making a small happy sound when he placed a new tart in front of her.

"Hmm, maybe."

_"One day she's going to realise you're as bent as a nine bob note."_ Harry grinned at his aunt's words and glanced out of the window to see two more possible customers heading his way from different directions and quickly standing up from the table.

"Looks like Mr Thomason is coming in for his daily cake, I'd better get back to doing my job! Can't spend all day gossiping after all!" Harry told her with a smile when she glanced at him questioningly.

_"Oh, you can't? Could have fooled me with the way you carry on. Don't forget Thomason likes Elephant feet, so make sure you've got a couple of those to tempt him with."_ Harry sighed and gave a small nod in acknowledgement to his aunt's whispers and checked to make sure he did indeed have an elephants foot - a large round choux pastry bun filled with sweetened whipped cream and topped with a gooey caramel sauce - in the display before wiping away a few stray crumbs and generally just making himself look busy behind the counter while he waited for his next customer to come in.

It wasn't a long wait before Mr Thomason entered the shop, bell above the door ringing cheerfully to announce his entrance as the man himself gave a quiet greeting to Mrs Lovage before making his way to the counter where Harry waited for him.

"Hello, young Harold!" Harry just smiled weakly, he'd long since given up on telling the man that his name wasn't a short version of Harold.

"Hello, Mr Thomason! What do you fancy today? I made some elephant feet this morning, if they take your fancy!" Harry said, motioning towards said treat though knowing Mr Thomason, he knew it'd take at least five minutes before the man finally made up his mind.

"Hmm, maybe, Harold. Maybe. I'll just have a look though, just in case something else takes me fancy."

"That's fine, Mr Thomason. How's your grandson? He's just coming to the end of his first year at university, isn't he?"

_"You know he's going to pick the elephant foot, why does he even bother pretending to look at anything else? He was like this as a child, you know. Drove me insane! Takes after his father. It's the Thomason blood that does it. Our son and grandson are the same. My mother warned me that Thomason blood was shifty."_ Harry just rolled his eyes and quickly took a mental tally of anything he may need to restock - which was nothing - and then returned to leaning against the counter and feigning patience.

"Robert? He's doing fine! He'll be coming up here for a visit in the summer holidays, get him away from the influence of those southerners. Don't know what he was thinking going to London of all places!"

"I know, terrible decision. Full of Londoners," Harry agreed with a nod, not actually having anything against Londoners himself, not that he'd actually met any. Well, none living at least.

"Right, I'll have an elephants foot, I think. Actually, let's make it two."

"Okay! Would you like them boxed or just in a bag?" Harry asked, wondering why he was giving the man a choice.

"Oh well… put them in a box, I think. Knowing me, I'll squash them if I take them in a bag," Mr Thomason told him with a nod, everyone in the shop looking up and over to the door when the bell rang once again and two young men about the same age as Harry walked in. Harry stared at them and then at Mr Thomason, who gave a discreet shrug. Clearly the were new then because Harry had no clue who they were.

_"Oh he's definitely a Malfoy, that pasty looking blond one. Don't know who the other would be. From a family after my time. Looks a bit rodent like to me. Shifty looking eyes. Want me to taste his soul?"_

"No," Harry hissed quietly, Mr Thomason not even batting an eye at Harry speaking to himself, showing just how often it happened. Really though, it was like Uncle Antioch didn't trust that Harry could taste the ratty looking boys soul himself, not that he would, it gave him terrible heartburn for some reason. "Hello! Welcome to Sylvia's Sweet Treats, how may I help you today?"

Harry watched as the pair of wizards - they were so clearly wizards that it wouldn't have been any more obvious if they'd carried a sign, really, who wore those shoes with that top? - Glanced at him and then at the selection of cakes and sandwiches on display. Whilst they were looking, Harry quickly boxed up two elephant feet and passed them over the counter to Mr Thomason.

"That'll be two pounds and ten pence then please, Mr Thomason!" Harry added as Mr Thomason dug the money out of his wallet and handed the right amount over. "Thank you! You'll have to let me know what your grandson likes so I can have some ready when he comes to visit."

_"I can tell you what he likes! Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I'm obsolete! Don't ignore me, boy!"_ Harry just rolled his eyes and smiled at Mr Thomason absently.

"I'll be sure to let you know in time, don't you worry! Take care of yourself on the way home tonight, Harold! Don't want you having a funny turn with no one around to help you, do we?" Mr Thomason said as his usual departing comment before he left the shop, leaving Harry with Mrs Lovage - who was not so discreetly checking out the two wizards in the shop - and said two wizards, who looked more out of place than a whore in a nunnery. Actually, that reminded him that he hadn't seen Delilah for a while.

"Mrs Lovage, have you spoken to Delilah recently? Last I spoke to her business was a bit dry, but that was over a week ago," Harry added with a small frown, glancing at the two wizards and wondering just what it was they were doing in there if they weren't going to buy something.

"Mr Moore hired her a couple of days ago, said she was thinking about moving to Great Hangleton! Imagine! Moving there!"

"Better than moving to York or somewhere even further away. I'd imagine she'd get a few more clients in a bigger town."

"Still, we look after our own here! Who knows what would happen to her over there!"

"Excuse me! Oi! You! Blind boy!" Harry blinked and realised the rude blond - _"Definitely a Malfoy. Nasty lot. Nice to see they haven't changed with all the inbreeding._" - was talking to him.

"I'm not blind. How may I help you?" Harry added with an overly polite tone and a spaced out smile, making the two wizards look at him like he was insane - not the first time he'd had that look sent his way.

"Right. I want a summer fruit tartlet and my friend wants a cream bun. Get them for us." Harry just stared at him for a minute before he shook his head and went about getting the cakes they had demanded, not even bothering offering them a bag. The way they carried themselves, they would expect a box.

_"Ask him the name of the ratty fellow next to him! It's driving me mad not knowing! He looks a little like a Prewett, but I've never known a Prewett to stand next to a Malfoy without cursing them first."_

"Can't say I blame them," Harry muttered, carefully placing the cream bun next to the tartlet and then efficiently closing the box and tying it closed with some ribbon.

"Did you say something?!"

"Here's your order, sir. That'll be one pound sixty, please," Harry said, placing the box on the counter and holding out his hand for the money.

"What? Don't you take galleons? What kind of place is this? Nott, pay the man!"

_"A Nott?! Good lord, they were a muggle-bred family in my time. They've actually managed to make it to pureblood status? What is the world coming to. Thank Death we died! Now, kick the pompous little shit out and tell him you don't want any of his disgraceful wizard money. Who does he think he is? You're a Peverell, you don't need to take any of his Gallic shit!"_

"Perhaps you should go exchange your money for proper currency. I believe a place called Gringotts will aide you there," Harry calmly pointed out, grinning when Ignotus gave a small cheer before telling him to physically kick the Malfoy brat out.

"How dare you tell me what to do! My father will hear about this! Nott, let's go! Filthy muggles. Don't know what we were thinking coming down here," Malfoy muttered stomping his way out of the shop with nott quickly following behind him.

"Well, wasn't he a pleasant young man?" Mrs Lovage said sarcastically, before she stood up from the table, brushing any stray crumbs from her impressive bust and made her way over to the counter. "Now, how much do I owe you?"

"That'll be three pounds for the two tarts then, please! Tea is on the house as usual!" Harry told her with a bright smile, taking the money she handed him and putting it in his till.

"Thank you, Harry. Don't you let that rude young man get to you though! I know his sort, privileged, stuck up little snot. Don't you make any mind on what he said!" Mrs Lovage told him with a stern frown on her face.

"I won't, Mrs Lovage, don't worry. I'll let you know what I come up with for your cake when you're next in, okay?'

"That'll be fine. I'll see you in a day or two! Take care of yourself!" And with that Mrs Lovage left the shop and left Harry to his thoughts.

_"Thought the Malfoy's would have bred themselves out by now. Seems we're not that fortunate. If he bothers you again, I'm sure we could come up with a suitable ritual that would deter him from bothering us again."_

"Us, Uncle Antioch? Surely it's just me he'd be bothering. Besides, you know we shouldn't use rituals on that kind. He wouldn't be impressed if we brought their attention back to necromancers once more."

_"I don't know, there must be a reason He allowed you to have the blood of a Peverell. Maybe He thinks it's time for necromancers to make a come back."_

"I'm the only one left!" Harry exclaimed, making his way into the kitchen and deciding to make himself a lettuce and tomato sandwich.

_"You know, I still don't know what your aversion to meat is._" Harry just rolled his eyes at his aunt's words, grinning when Cadmus made himself known and saving him from answering.

_"We've told you this already, you batty old hag! Everything dead that our kind touches may come back to life. How would you feel knowing that a simple ham sandwich might start flinching in pain and bleeding just as you're about to take a bite?"_

_"Yes, yes. I just think you're being nesh."_

_"Nesh?! I'll give you nesh!"_ Harry just rolled his eyes are his aunt and Cadmus, before making his way back to the front, taking his sandwich with him and taking a seat on the bar stool he had by the till.

"Have they finished arguing yet?" Harry asked absently into the air as he took a bite of his sandwich.

_"Your aunt won't ever admit when she's wrong and Cadmus dislikes anyone telling him he's wrong. It'll be a while before they stop arguing._"

"Ah, so whilst it's quiet before the late afternoon rush, any hints on who might be coming in and what they'd want? And does anyone have any idea of who might be thinking of coming in tomorrow, so I can have a head start."

_"I imagine Gerald will be stopping by after work to get some bread. It's been a couple of days since he bought some. Oh, and I bet a handful of kids from St Margarets Secondary and Little Hangleton Community School will stop by after school to get their daily sugar intake before going home."_

"Hmm, I think I've got enough cupcakes made for the school kids. And I made some bread this morning. Any ideas on what to make for Mrs Lovage's WI meeting…?" Harry trailed off when the bell rang and a tall, handsome man with dark brown, almost black hair and blue green eyes walked in with a regal air about him. "Afternoon, welcome to Sylvia's Sweet Treats."

_"Dark Lord! Be careful around him! Don't give anything away! Don't let him know you're a Potter! Don't you dare die on us now, Boy!"_ Harry almost winced at the shrill tone Ignotus's voice took when the man stood in front of them.

"Afternoon. I am assuming this is the shop two sons of my employees were complaining about."

"A blond and a brunet? Yes, this was probably the place. No idea what I did to upset them other than tell them that they had the wrong currency," Harry told the man with a shrug, discreetly eyeing the man and trying to work out how he could possibly be the feared Dark Lord.

Harry was well aware of what was going on in the Wizarding world, he had been since he had been taken out of it. As much as Lily had tried to stay in touch with him, Harry had been aware that eventually something would happen that would 'magically' remove him from her thoughts and memories. When he was fifteen, his thoughts had come to pass and the weekly letters from his mother had come to a stop. However, Harry had other ways of getting news on what was happening. After all, wizards and witches died just the same as muggles, and when one was dead, they didn't much care who they were talking to as long as they got the chance. Or at least, that was what Harry thought.

So really, Harry was well aware that his older brother had been entered into a wizard tournament and then kidnapped, where he was used in a ritual to resurrect the Dark Lord - not that it was a true resurrection, he wasn't dead after all - when Harry was fourteen. He was also aware that the reign of terror hadn't quite happened the way most had expected and that Dumbledore had his fingers in more destructive pies than the Dark Lord did. Of course, this didn't mean the Dark Lord was a nice man and Harry certainly would have been happier not having the murderous man in his shop at this current moment in time.

"Yes, sadly neither one takes after their father in the intelligence stakes. Shame really. I only keep them around because their fathers are so useful."

"Ah, nepotism. Always nice to see still around. Not that I can talk of course, I did, after all, inherit this place from my aunt. Now, may I help you with anything other than commiserating on your current employees?" Harry asked, flinching a little when Ignotus yelled at him for making friendly with a Dark Lord. Not that Harry knew what Ignotus actually expected him to do that wouldn't get him killed.

"Thank you for your commiserations then. I'm Marvolo Riddle, by the way. I moved into the old Riddle Manor just outside of town."

_"I wonder if he knows he's named after the most insane man to ever have lived in Little Hangleton."_

"Oh! Yes, I know where you're talking about. Riddle Manor is well known around here. Is it true that it's haunted? Sorry. Not my business. Oh! I'm Harry, by the way. Well, technically my full name is Horatio because according to Uncle Antioch, Harry is far too common. Even though I pointed out that one of the crown princes was called Harry and it seemed to be good enough for him, though I guess that is short for Henry. Oh well, I prefer Harry. How may I help you again? Sorry for rambling! They're always telling me that I ramble too much."

_"Which you're still doing. What are you telling him your full name for?! And why did you mention Antioch?! Does that sound like a muggle name, you idiot?!"_

"Yes, yes, right. Sorry. Seriously though, can I help you in any way?" Harry asked, ignoring Ignotus' scolding and Marvolo's bemused stare which became even more confused when Harry absently batted at the air next to him.

"Well, I did come in to make sure that my idiot employees sons hadn't insulted you too badly, but now that I'm here, I would also quite like to buy a couple of eclairs. They're a secret weakness of mine and yours look delicious," Marvolo added, not noticing Harry staring at him in shock before he shook his head and quickly set up a box to place them inside.

"Right, well I hand bake everything you see here, so I'll take that as a compliment. And your weakness shall stay a secret with me of course! Hopefully they taste as good as they look!" Harry added with a bright smile, absently batting at the air beside him before he tied the box shut and placed it on the counter. "That'll be a pound please!"

_"I can't believe the big bad Dark Lord has a hankering for eclairs. You could lace the cream with poison,"_ Cadmus whispered in his ear, apparently having finished arguing with Aunty Sylv.

"No, not a good idea." Harry muttered as he took the pound from Marvolo and put it in the till, head shooting up to look at Marvolo when the man cleared his throat. "Yes?"

"I don't wish to be rude, but I was just wondering, why are you wearing sunglasses inside? You just… remind me of someone I met many years ago and I never knew why he wore sunglasses inside either. Never got a chance to ask him."

_"He's talking about you, you know. You're too young to remember, but we were there when he tried to kill your older brother. He could sense the power in you back then. Thank Death you're better at masking it now._"

"Oh, well I don't know about the other person you met, but I was born with aniridia, which means I don't have irises. So my pupils can't contract in bright light so it hurts my eyes. Other than that though it doesn't affect me at all."

_"Except giving you the ability to see souls of the departed you mean? Probably best not to tell him that part though. Would give away the fact you're not a muggle."_

"Really? I suppose that also explains why your windows don't seem to let as much light in as they should given how large they are. Well, thank you for telling me and for the eclairs. If they're as good as I hope they are, then I shall recommend this bakery to my employees."

"Please do! And um… maybe let them know that I only accept pound sterling. I don't mean to be a bother, but well they'll find that most of the shops here don't accept any other currency. I mean, some people have tried to fob off a couple of euros on us, but we're not Ireland, you know?" Harry added with a laugh that possibly came out a little more strained than he had hoped, but really, the Dark Lord and overall hater of those with no magic was currently standing in his delightfully muggle bakery. It was enough to make anyone anxious.

"I'll make sure to let them know. Thank you for your service, Horatio." And with that, the Dark Lord - or Marvolo, apparently - left the shop before Harry could even think to tell him not to call him Horatio. He only ever let the Peverell's get away with that and that was only because he couldn't be bother to summon to energy so his punches actually hit their spiritual bodies.

"You know, Marvolo senior wasn't so bad. Okay, he was as mad as a box of frogs, but he did have some valid points. I mean, he was framed, so clearly someone was out to get him. Plus, his son was way crazier than he was."

_"Yes, someone was out to get him. You just met him. And sold him an eclair. You know, I lived until I was forty-five and was an accomplished necromancer who could claim to have met Death on multiple occasions… And yet my life wasn't nearly as bizarre as yours has been._"

"I'm just going to take that as a compliment. Now, I think I need to buy a new hat, don't you? Oh, and didn't you say it was time I made a new bead?"

_"Make sure the hat is black this time. And how many times do we have to tell you, it's not a bead! It's a physical manifestation of your spiritual energy!"_

"Right! And it physically manifested into a bead. Do you think maybe we should just close up shop and disappear? It can't be healthy living in the same town as a Dark Lord. Especially one who hates muggles and currently believes I am a muggle."

_"Better hope he lives by the rule of not shitting where you eat. Or in his case, not killing muggles where you live, sleep and eat in the hopes that the muggles don't get a clue and turn on you. Don't you even think about selling my bakery!"_

"Technically it's mine now."

_"And technically me being dead won't stop me hurting you if you sell it._"

"Fine fine. It was just a suggestion. Besides, maybe living near the headquarters of evil central will make this sleepy little town a bit more interesting. Put it on the map, so to speak."

_"Well, either that or we're all going to be the first place the British government drops an A bomb on."_ And with that delightful scenario put in his head by Frank, Harry went back to finishing his rather tasteless sandwich. On the bright side, it didn't come to life in his hands and traumatise him for life.

* * *

**A/N - At this point in writing this, I should possibly take a moment to tell you that I have no idea where I'm going with this. It's safe to say I'm currently winging it. Though I do have a kind of vague idea of what I want to happen.**

**Those that reviewed to ask about the Potters, well you'll slowly find out more about them as the chapters go on. Including what exactly happened to stop Lily from getting in touch with him. And yes, eventually, you'll find out what Charlus, Rose and Dahlia (his siblings, if you've forgotten) believe about Harry. You'll just need a little patience. :) **

**Oh, and speaking of reviews, if you have questions you would like me to answer, then please leave me a way to actually reply. I really don't like those fics that add to half the word count just by answering reviews. Really annoying. That being said, someone in an anonymous review did ask about James, and how it would be unlikely he'd treat his son that way. Personally, I don't think James was that bad. He is a pureblood and they're raised to look down on squibs, plus it's well known that squibs tend to be given away or killed. James just knew that Harry wouldn't be staying with them so he distanced himself from his son so it wouldn't hurt so much when the time to give him away came. James was right, how cruel would it have been to force a magicless child to live in a world full of magic he couldn't use? So don't hate James too much. Also, it was stated in the prologue that the real truth about the Peverell's was lost/erased, so why would James be special and know about them? Even in canon, the Peverell Brothers were seen as a myth or a fairy tale, so it would be a bit weird if James suddenly started going on that he knew the impossible. So yeah, that is why James didn't know about the connection to the Peverell's and Harry's abilities. **

**Hope that answered your questions, and if you do review anonymously with questions in future, sorry, but they won't be answered.**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N - Just a quick note because people asked, I did leave a few clues as to how old Harry was but apparently I suck at clue giving. He's twenty-two, so Charlus is twenty-three. Draco is also twenty-three as it's currently June in the story. Hope that clears things up! :)**

**Also, people have mentioned Harry being the one to defeat Voldemort. He didn't. Charlus did. He was just being a child, children like bright shiny objects and Harry likes death. Really, it was inevitable that he'd reach to touch the Death Curse.**

I don't normally do this, but this chapter is dedicated to Katzztar, who shares so many of the same opinions of certain characters as I do! This chapter is early because of them, go thank them! Lol (the next update, by the way, will probably be next week some time, if nothing happens in RL)

* * *

Chapter Three

The week that followed after the unexpected visit from the Dark Lord - and Harry was still trying to convince Antioch that it wouldn't be a wise idea to poison the man with his beloved eclairs. For one it would ruin his reputation. Plus, he'd totally be found out and killed in a painfully slow way - was rather boring and had no other unexpected surprises of the wizarding kind, though Harry had woken every day wondering if he would have another hapless customer who tried to fob him off with goblin gold. Useless metal. If Harry were actually able to trade it in a jewellers for actual gold, then sure, he'd have accepted it and laughed all the way to Maude's jewellery shop. But goblins were wily little buggers who for one, didn't hallmark their gold and thus making it seem fake to the eye, and to top it off, it was charmed so it didn't react correctly to any chemicals a jeweller might have used to test if it was gold at the absence of a hallmark.

Really, Harry thought it was a little selfish of goblins actually. Did they realise they were swindling muggleborns and squibs of a fortune? Probably. That was probably the reason they did it. Actually, that was definitely the reason they did it.

Still, the point was, Harry had been fully expecting and therefore had readied himself for visiting wizards, fully preparing himself to act like the slightly off-balance muggle he was masquerading as and it was all for naught. The only slightly strange thing that had happened had been Mrs Lovage inviting him to join the WI - and Harry pointing out that him being male, it was kinda redundant for him to join something called the _Women's_ Institute - but that was less magical and more… Mrs Lovage.

So Harry fully felt it was well within his right to whine at the injustice when, just as he'd finally calmed down and convinced himself that Volde-whatever had hated his eclairs and thus warned all his wizardly cohorts to avoid his bakery, and so was therefore finally acting more like his - still admittedly crazy - self, when low and behold a bloody wizard walked into his shop fifteen minutes before closing time.

He was _totally_ within his rights to whine.

"Why didn't you bloody warn me?! What good are you? This is so unfair!" So Harry did whine. And then blush quite spectacularly when the attractive, behemoth of a man just raised an eyebrow in question and stared at him with fathomless dark brown eyes. And yes, Harry had possibly raided his aunt's old Mills and Boons books that night before for something to read.

Antioch had mocked him mercilessly.

_"Oh yes, that's something a sane muggle man would say to absolutely no one when someone walked in their shop. Maybe you should just stay on tenterhooks until the end of your days."_

"Not helping," Harry muttered, before coughing into his hand and them smiling sheepishly at the clearly bemused man - who was at least a good foot taller than Harry and so probably wouldn't even need to raise his wand to squish Harry like a bug. "Hi! Sorry, just er… you know? Voices. Um… How may I help you?"

"My boss said you made good cakes."

"Oh! Right! Mr Riddle, I'm assuming? Either that or Mr Hendricks, and well, he's kinda crazy and refuses to come in here in case I take his position as the town nutcase. Er…" Harry trailed off and mentally wondered why he was acting like a complete moron.

_"Because you are one, honey. Now, I just got back from talking to Dowager Murray. Apparently-"_

"NOT the time," Harry hissed, before mentally groaning and wondering just why he was making so many mistakes today when the man-mountain in front of him just raised his other eyebrow. He also absently wondered if a dead woman could still be called a dowager, as she wasn't exactly a widow anymore.

"Right. I like pies. Do you have pies?"

_"Man of many words this one. Snatch him up, Harry. He's your opposite. Other than being clearly sane, I mean."_

_"I think not! My heir will not be with some inbred wizard pureblood!"_ Harry just shook his head quickly and took a step to the side as though to distance himself from the once again bickering Cadmus and Sylv.

"I have a couple of pies made. Umm, all fruit pies though. Sorry, I don't sell meat products."

"I like cherries."

"You're in luck! I have one cherry pie left! And as it's the last one left and nearing the end of the day, you can have it for half the price as well! Is there anything else you'd like?"

"Hm. Four jam donuts."

"Right! Okay! Oh, and I'll toss in the last two eclairs as well for er… well, um… Anyone! Free of charge! Otherwise they'll just be thrown away."

"Hmm."

"Right… so! One cherry pie, four jam donuts and two eclairs. That comes to… well, just two pounds!" Harry said cheerfully, boxing up the man's order as he rummaged in his pocket for the - hopefully - right money. He quickly placed the three boxes, all tied together with parcel ribbon, on the counter and took the offered money. "Thank you! Come again!"

"Hmm. I will," the man told him with a small smirk that for reasons unknown to Harry actually made him blush before he turned and left the shop, three boxes hanging effortlessly from the ribbon they were tied with.

"You lot are going to get me killed!" Harry exclaimed loudly once the door was shut and Harry had rushed over to lock it - only five or ten minutes early - behind the man. He threw his hands up in the air in annoyance and stomped back behind the counter to start cleaning up before he made what he could to prepare for another early morning the next day.

_"Really, we were just pointing out the obvious! If anything, you're going to get yourself killed."_ Harry growled under his breath at Ignotus' words.

_"Much as it pains me to say, he is right. You're normally quite good at just coming across a little unbalanced mentally without full out arguing with yourself. The arrival of this Dark Lord is not doing good things for your cover."_

"Look, legally my name isn't even Potter any more! He'll never find out that I'm in any way related to the vaunted Boy Who Lived. Who, might I add, isn't exactly doing any saviour duties from what you've been telling me."

_"The boy's right! That bloody Potter boy really isn't doing the Light side any good. I don't know much about about what's happening in that wizarding world of yours but even I know Harry's brother is useless._"

"Oh, Frank, I don't know, I wouldn't say he was useless. Besides, if he was actually good at stopping the Dark Lord, then Dumbledore would be winning and I think we can safely say that none of us want that."

_"You do have a point. As it is, Dumbledore is already making efforts to search for you. The lost Potter."_

"Wait, what? Why? I'm nothing but a squib to him! What good would I be?" Harry asked, a little alarmed at Ignotus' words.

_"Ah, but your mother has always had her doubts about you. She's hid it well but recently she confessed her thoughts about you. Sadly, Dumbledore took what she thought to heart so now he's hunting you down in the thoughts that you'll somehow make things easier for your beloved brother,"_

"Right. He really is off his rocker, isn't he? How am I supposed to help, exactly? Man, why does the wizarding world have to think necromancers are those bloody dark wizards that make inferi," Harry whined, giving a small shudder at the thought of inferi, as he made his way into the kitchen with the remaining food he'd taken out of the display cabinets.

_"I've been saying that for decades. Still, maybe we should work on your next focus. It should help ground you a bit more."_

"So… it'll help me ignore you lot more?"

_"Actually, it'll more likely widen your range to about twenty-five miles as opposed to the fifteen miles it is now,"_ Cadmus admitted, and Harry just knew he was grinning when Harry groaned at the thought of even more busybody dead people trying to chat it up with him.

_"Oh, it's not that bad. It's not like every person who has died within a twenty-five mile radius will want to talk to you. Everyone that had died within ten miles doesn't!"_

"True, but now a bloody homicidal Dark Lord is living less than ten miles away, there'll be loads of dead people soon and they'll all want to talk to the crazy kid who can hear them whine on about how unfair it all was," Harry grumbled, pouting as he beat his frustrations into the dough he was making.

_"Well, that is true, but they'll soon realise that you don't give a damn and won't be doing anything to avenge people you have no connection to. Just better hope he doesn't kill anyone you're actually related to. That could be awkward._"

"You mean like half the wizarding world? My dad was a pureblood after all. How is it remotely a good thing to marry your cousin, by the way?"

_"Oh, I don't know, we had a cousin who was quite the looker. Remember Elisabett?"_

"Oh gods, please spare me from this decidedly creepy conversation."

_"I'm with my adorable little nephew on this one. Though I suppose back in your day it wasn't quite so unusual to marry a second cousin or so,"_ Aunty Sylv added musingly, making Harry wrinkle his nose in distaste. Not that he knew any of his cousins - in fact he was only aware that he had one - but he was pretty sure he wouldn't find them attractive and certainly wouldn't consider marrying one.

"Gross."

_"For you, maybe. Then again, I've seen your cousin. Quite the… large lad. Now, enough about this, I think you should make plans to do the ritual on Sunday morning. You don't open on a Sunday anyway, so you'll be able to sleep in afterwards."_

"Do you think I should go into Great Hangleton and use the graveyard there? Less chance that Volde-whojit will pick up on the magic used and investigate."

_"That is true, but the graveyard in Little Hangleton has older graves that you are more familiar with. Then again, maybe it would be better if you went to a battlefield. You haven't made one there before. It would certainly be an experience."_

_"Yorkshire does have the most battlefields of any county in England."_

"You know the most random facts, Aunty Sylv."

_"You would too if you hadn't offended your history teacher so much that he refused to allow you into the GCSE class!"_

"I didn't offend him! I just pointed out that his facts were wrong! It's not my fault we visited York Cathedral where there are actual dead bodies and those dead people contradicted what Mr Macartney was saying!" Harry defended himself, pouting as he thought back to how his teacher had reacted that day.

_"Yes, there is a downside to talking to the dead, isn't there? Now, I've decided that my idea was a good one, so you just need to pick a battlefield."_

"Bosworth!"

_"There was a reason you weren't allowed in the Geography GCSE class either… Bosworth is in Leicestershire."_

"Hastings!"

_"Sussex._"

"I thought you said there were loads in Yorkshire! So far all the ones we've mentioned are somewhere else! Where was the one with Robert the Bruce? I wouldn't mind talking to him."

_"A battle did take place in Yorkshire but The Bruce didn't die here. In fact they won. But if you want to go there, it's Byland Moor."_

"It's a moor? Necromancers can't become werewolves, right? I remember you telling me that, Cadmus. That's true, right?"

_"Yes, it's true but the film that is making you think werewolves are actually hunting the Yorkshire moors wasn't real. In fact, as far as I'm aware there are no werewolves currently in Yorkshire. Well, except the ones that visit your resident Dark Lord. Of course, this is all completely obsolete because it isn't even a full moon on the night you'll be in the moors. In fact, it's a new moon. Which is the reason I said to do it this weekend."_

"Fine, that's good then. So we're going to Old Byland to talk to some angry dead Scotsmen and Englishmen? Great. Now I just have to work on pretending to be muggle a bit better."

* * *

Marcus Flint walked through the halls of Riddle Manor, ignoring the odd looks he was getting from the Death Eaters he passed due to the boxes of baked goods he was carrying, and instead made his way to the main dining hall where he assumed the Dark Lord would be, but also knew Malfoy Snr and his father would be there waiting for the donuts. And even now, Flint was bemused by the mere thought of watching Lucius Malfoy eat a jam donut.

He entered the room and silently placed the boxes on the table, glancing over to see that the Dark Lord was indeed in there and was watching him with mild interest.

"What are in the boxes?"

"Cakes, My Lord. And a pie. My father and Lord Malfoy wished to try some jam donuts, so I went down to buy some. The… slightly strange man who worked there also gave me some free eclairs. Claiming that they would go to waste so I should just take them. Though he didn't offer me any of the other food that would go to waste. No idea why he just gave me eclairs," Marcus admitted with a shrug, wondering what he'd said when the Dark Lord's eyes narrowed at him.

"He didn't give any reason for giving you free eclairs?"

"No, My Lord. To be honest, I think he's a little insane."

"What makes you say that?" Lord Voldemort asked, moving nearer to the table and glancing at the now open boxes and casually picking up an eclair.

"Well, he was talking to himself and seemed to hear voices. Are all muggles that odd?" Marcus couldn't help but ask, the strange baker being the only muggle he'd really had the… pleasure of meeting.

"No. Most are rather dull. He is different and I think we should keep an eye on him. There is something about him that tells me he is not your average muggle."

"What makes you say that, My Lord?" Flint Senior asked, struggling with the donut he was eating, though Malfoy was somehow making eating the thing look elegant. Marcus had no idea how he was achieving that.

"He seemed to recognise me. Though maybe recognise is the wrong word. No, he seemed to know enough about me to be wary. He was very nervous the whole time I was in the shop."

"Yes, he was quite nervous when I was in there. Like he couldn't wait for me to get out of the shop."

"That's exactly how he was with me. And Draco mentioned that he knew of Gringotts. He is a very well informed muggle, if that is indeed what he is. I have doubts to that though."

"You think he's a wizard?"

"No. I sensed no magic in him. If anything, I think he is a squib. I am sure, though, that he knew we were wizards. Dark wizards at that. I also get the feeling that he knows more about what happened to the family that owned this manor than the rest of the muggles in this town."

"Do you want us to bring him in? Question him about what he knows, My Lord?" Lucius asked calmly, for some reason the suggestion making Marcus' hackles rise.

"No. Not yet anyway. For now, we'll just keep an eye on him. Perhaps place an eavesdropping charm the next time one of us goes there to see if he says anything that'll give him away, or perhaps if he's in contact with any wizards. It would be dangerous if he was and were to mention one of us to them. Who knows who that would get back to. For the time being however, we'll just watch him," Lord Voldemort told them whilst reaching for another eclair. Marcus watched him and began to have the sneaking suspicion that the insane baker squib had in fact given him the free eclairs for a reason.

"Of course, My Lord. We can charm one of the chairs he has in the shop front with an eavesdropping charm the next time someone goes in there. That should at least get us some information."

"In the mean time, maybe we can find out a little about the baker. I only know his first name is Harry, short for Horatio, other than that, we know nothing. Perhaps it would be in our best interest to find out a little of his history and see if he is indeed a squib. Lucius, see if your contacts know anything and Marcus, maybe you could go the muggle route. Get Barty to help you there, he has an unhealthy interest in muggle technology, he'll be able to help you find out what you need."

"Yes, My Lord," Marcus agreed, mentally groaning at the thought of having to work with Barty Crouch. That man was more crazy than the squib baker.

* * *

Harry stifled a yawn as he grabbed everything he would need for that night's ritual, ignoring the nagging of Ignotus as he carefully placed the extortionately priced set of crystal blades - and boy was Maude curious about why he needed those - wrapped in a specially made case of black silk, admittedly it should have been velvet, but touching velvet made Harry feel physically sick, into his bag, along with a couple of roughly cut stones and a few strands of his hair that had been soaking in his blood for twenty-four hours.

"I think I have everything. I checked Yahoo for where exactly Byland Abbey is and I think I have a good mental image of it, so we can shadow walk there. Which is totally a good thing because I don't think the trains run at two in the morning."

_"Good, you should make your way to the nearest cemetery then so we can leave and get to the moor before three."_

"Actually, maybe we should head to the other graveyard. The nearest one would be Riddle cemetery. I don't think it would be a good idea heading there just in case we bump into someone we really don't want to. Especially given what Frank told us they have been discussing."

_"You do have a point. Fine, go to the graveyard next to St Peter and St Paul's. It has the added bonus of being consecrated ground, so it should help you a little. But hurry up! Your ritual has to happen at three."_

"Yeah, yeah. Hold you horses," Harry grumbled before he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder, then grabbed his house keys from the table and quickly made his way out of the house, thankful for his 'religions' insistence that he always wear black as it aided him in going unnoticed in the dark. The new moon also helped him with that.

Harry quickly jogged to the main, and only, catholic church in Little Hangleton that was about a mile across town from where his cottage was and, when he got there, quickly glanced around to make sure no one was watching before shimmying up and over the wrought iron fence that surrounded the grounds and generally just gave the place an all round creepy and intimidating feel to it.

Well, to normal people. Harry was far from normal in any sense of the word and as soon as his feet touched the hallowed ground of the graveyard, he relaxed as a feeling of home washed over him. This was his second most commonly visited and used graveyard, second to the Riddle one which was now lost to him much to his distress, and he knew all the 'residents' there.

"Where to for the portal?"

_"It's not a portal. Stop watching ridiculous sci fi tv shows that put these silly words and ideas into your head."_

"What is it then and where do you suppose would be the best place to set it up? I've never left from this graveyard before. Always used that creepy grim reaper headstone over Tom Riddle Senior's resting place," Harry admitted with a shrug, glancing down when he felt something brush his ankle and smiling when he saw it was Madam Locke. He knelt down and brushed his hand over the hand reaching out of the ground, smiling when it shuddered. "Sorry, Mimi, not here to talk tonight. I've got to head over to a battlefield. If I have time when I get back, I'll drop by though, yeah?" Harry's answer was given in the form of the hand brushing over his pulse point in his wrist before retreating back into the ground. Harry then stood up once more and brushed the dirt from his knees. "So?"

_"An old Earl was buried here a few centuries ago. His headstone is just behind the church and should be large enough for you to draw the gate on."_ Harry just nodded silently to Antioch's suggestion and made his way through the gravestones to the back of the churchyard and where the headstone Harry assumed Antioch was talking about was placed. It was a rather impressive size, coming up to Harry's chest in height and would be the perfect place for his gate.

Quickly walking over to the impressive headstone, Harry dropped his bag next to it before kneeling down in front of the back of it.

"Hey, can I borrow your headstone to create my gate, please?" Harry whispered to the ground, hoping the owner was around at the time and not busy gossiping in wherever it was the dead went to catch up.

_"Of course you can, Master Necromancer. Indeed, it would be my pleasure."_

_"He's not a master yet. Soon though."_ Harry just rolled his eyes at Ignotus' reminder of his less than perfect necromancer status and instead reached for his back and brought out some chalk as opposed to bickering with his many times great grandfather.

"Thank you. I promise I'll wash the chalk off when I return," Harry whispered, then started to draw intricate runes and symbols on the headstone. In quick order, Harry swiftly wrote the last of the runes, then bit his thumb to draw blood and smeared his blood across the entire stone. Taking a step back, he felt his magic being drawn from him into the runes and symbols, then with a barely audible rushing sound, the headstone shimmered before seemingly becoming transparent, showing a vision of a field. "Here's hoping I was thinking of the right place, huh?" Harry muttered before he shoved his chalk back into his bag, picked it up and then, taking a deep breath, stepped through the gateway.

Just like stepping through an open window, there was no feeling of displacement or anything else to suggest he'd just travelled several miles in one step. As soon as his feet touched the ground on the other side of the gateway, he knew he had gotten the right place. He could sense the deaths that had happened there. None of them particularly pleasant, and he could feel the anger and rage that had caused those deaths.

"Pleasant place. Right, I'm Horatio Peverell and I would very much like to use your resting place as my grounding point to create my next focus bead thing."

_"Why should we allow this, little necromancer?"_ Harry jumped at the deep voice that had answered him in Scottish-Gaelic, making Harry so very glad that he'd pretty much grown up speaking many now considered dead languages. Well, the ones common to the island now known as Great Britain.

"Well, it would be nice?" Harry answered in the same language before sighing and slumping a little, "Look, here's the thing, there's this Dark Lord who's just moved into my town and if he finds out what I am, I very much doubt he'll have any qualms forcing me to raise armies of the dead. Something I'm very much against, as I'm sure you all are as well. Creating another focus will help me to hide what I am. I don't want to be dragged into the war the wizards are having. It won't end well for me whatever side finds me first. So, please? Can I use your resting ground?"

_"You give a good argument in your favour. We may not be of those chosen to use magic but we know what is happening in that world. We agree with you, it would not bring good tidings were you to be found out. Because of this, we will agree to allow you passage and grounding. And know, that should you need our battlefield in the future then you will be free to use it."_

Harry gave a small sigh of relief at being given the go ahead and then wasted no time in setting up what he would need for the small ritual he was about to perform. He knelt on the floor and carefully laid out the three knives he would be using in front of him, then placed a sprig of willow and another sprig of hazel, both cut from trees in his garden, by his side and took a deep breath to centre himself.

"Lord Death, hear my call, I offer sacrifice in order to advance myself in my skills that you have graced upon me. I offer myself, blood of your blood, to show my respect," Harry whispered, cutting himself with the first blade, made of Garnet, the stone of his astrological sign, and letting the blood pool into the palm of his hand. He then grabbed the sprig of willow with his now bloody hand and the second knife made of Jasper and sliced along the length of the wood. "I offer willow to strengthen my connection to you and the dead." He carefully placed the now split willow on the floor in front of him before picking up the hazel, again with his bloody hand and swapped the jasper knife for his smallest and most expensive blade, the one made of sapphire and again sliced the wood lengthways. "And I offer hazel in hopes it will aid me in gaining wisdom from those that have left this life." Once more Harry placed the wood on the ground in front of him and then placed the knife down and wiped his hand on a strip of white silk that was already stained with old blood.

Placing that cloth next to the knives, Harry then whispered a small prayer over the bloodied pieces of wood in front of him and leant back, breath hitching as he felt his magic being drawn out of him into the offerings and feeling the rush of energy from the blood that had been split on the ground he was kneeling on twisting and flowing through him to join his own magic. After a couple of minutes at most - the fastest he had ever performed the ritual - the pieces of wood spontaneously combusted into dark green flames before turning the ash and Harry felt the magic build once more before he felt a small tug at his hair and the magic dissipated.

Waiting a moment or two to catch his breath and try to regain a bit of energy, he raised his hand shakily and patted where he had felt the tug, grinning widely when he felt another bead now a part of his hair.

_"You did well and have clearly pleased our Lord, Horatio."_

"Hmm? Why do you say that?" Harry asked with a frown, wondering how Antioch could tell he'd pleased Death just from a bead forming. A bead had formed almost every time he'd performed this ritual, the only time one hadn't was the first time he'd done it and had sneezed just as the branches had caught fire, abruptly ending the ritual and pissing Death off. Apparently.

_"Your guide is right, bairn. Your bead is not made of obsidian like the others, it is made of emerald. We were raised to believe emerald gave the wearer peace."_

_"He's right. It gives the wearer peace, but it also helps bring mental and emotional equilibrium. Our Lord clearly knew the reason for this ritual and felt He would offer His own form of protection against the wizards searching for you."_

"Well, that's kinda… scary actually. I like Death, He was a nice guy when I met Him, but I feel like He's singled me out and now the spotlight is on me. What if I let Him down!"

_"You are the only necromancer in existence. It is a high possibility that you have always been in Death's favour from birth. When He indeed singled you out to carry His gift in your blood. Don't let Him down!"_

"Gee, thanks for talking me off the ledge there, Uncle Cadmus. You really suck with the motivational speeches, you know?"

_"I am not here to pander to your weak ego. Now pack everything away, thank the kind souls that allowed you to intrude on their peace and then let us leave this place. It will be dawn very soon and you have a headstone to clean before you can go to bed._" Harry groaned a little at the thought of having to clean away any evidence of magic from the gravestone he had used as a gateway, feeling drained of all energy and really just wanting to fall into bed and not wake up until he absolutely had to.

Sighing loudly, Harry quickly wiped off all his knives on the bloodied silk rag and then wrapped them in the black silk, before placing them and the bloodied rag back into his bag and hitching it on his shoulder as he stood up, wincing as the blood rushed back into his legs.

"Thank you for allowing me to channel your energy in my ritual," Harry whispered, bowing his head in thanks and walking over to where his gateway was still open.

_"You are quite welcome, favoured of Death."_ Harry winced at the new nickname he seemed to have been given and withheld a put upon sigh he wanted to release.

"Yeah, let's not call me that. Thank you again and I'll be back soon, if only to talk to you, I'm betting you have some interesting stories," Harry added with a grin before he ducked into the gateway and stepped through to the graveyard in Little Hangleton.

Once Harry had cleaned away any evidence he was there from the headstone, he quickly made his way back to his cottage and it was with relief that he closed the door behind him just as the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon. He didn't even bother changing out of his clothes as he stumbled to his bedroom and fell onto his bed with a groan, silently promising himself that he would properly clean and wrap up his wound when he woke up before giving in to exhaustion and passing out.

* * *

**A/N - Just in case you were wondering, the meanings behind the stones Harry's knives are made of are as follows:**

**Garnet - as mentioned, it is the stone of his star sign, which is Scorpio (he was born on Halloween, don't forget)**

**Jasper - Protection against negativity and fear, it was used with willow, which is the wood of death.**

**Sapphire - Wisdom, which is used with hazel, the wood of wisdom. He really needs wisdom. Lol**

**Also, emerald, as was explained by Antioch, is used for protection, peace, spiritual, emotional and mental well-being and a whole load of other stuff, including helping eyesight and insomnia. Both of which are complete bollocks because I've worn emeralds in some form nearly all my life (it's my birthstone) and I'm blind as a bat and a chronic insomniac… I'm also possibly a little mentally unbalanced. *Snort***

**Well, let me know what you think (and before anyone contradicts me, different cultures have different meanings behind gemstones. I'm using the ones I know of), cheers! Oh! And yes, if there does turn out to be a pairing in this, then Marcus Flint is currently winning the race in my mind. **

**If you wondering, Mills and Boons are the British equivalent of Harlequin novels, I believe. My grandma had loads of them, which now that I know what they are (basically bad smut) totally changes my view of her… *snickers***


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Warnings: There will be a major character death in this chapter, but as you may have gathered by now, death isn't exactly final in this world.**

**Also, yes, eventually, there will possibly be slash in this. It's not certain yet, the only thing that is certain is that Harry is gay, so if that bothers you then just stop reading. Don't whine in a review to me about it and how its immoral or whatever bollocks you believe. I'm not moral. Harry's not moral. Who wants to be moral? Boring. ;D **

* * *

Chapter Four

Marcus gathered in the main receiving room of Riddle Manor along with the eleven other members of the inner circle of Death Eaters - not that Marcus was a part of the inner circle, he was only there because he was the only other person other than the Dark Lord who had spoken to the strange baker in town - all there to discuss said baker and what they had found out about him.

"You are all my most trusted. I do not trust some of the other Death Eaters not to just go into the town and torture the one I am interested in, which is why you are the only ones I have gathered. Now, as many of you are aware, this past week I have had a few of you gathering information on a resident of this small town who I suspect may be more than he is pretending to be. Lucius, step forward." Lucius, mask doing nothing to hide his identity given the man didn't bother to hide his highly recognisable hair, stepped forward and bowed before straightening and waiting for his orders. "Lucius, tell me, what have your contacts found out about the young muggle baker?"

"My Lord, I have been able to find out that between the years of nineteen-seventy-seven and nineteen-eighty-two, only seven squibs were born. One died at childbirth and two were female. Of the four surviving males, it is not apparent what happened to them, but two were born with a name that could be shortened into Harry."

"Oh?"

"Yes, a Henry Phillips, of the relatively young pureblood Phillips family was born in nineteen-eighty-one and well…"

"Lucius?"

"The Potter's gave birth to a squib son called Harry in nineteen-eighty," Lucius told him quickly, not bothering to look up to see his lords reaction to that piece of information, though Marcus was watching and so saw the wondering look on Lord Voldemort's face.

"What happened to the Potter squib?"

"No one knows, My Lord. Most assume he died as there are no records for him other than his birth certificate and one healers record where it was confirmed that he was a squib. He was last seen in public when he was six. After that, no one saw anything of him."

"I remember that child. He was very strange. Laughed even when it looked like his older brother was going to die. Of course, he was one and therefore probably didn't know what was happening, but he didn't show any fear. He was a very strange child, now that I think of it. There is absolutely no more information about him? Nothing to say what happened to him? Not even a death certificate?"

"Nothing, My Lord. I asked around, but no one could tell me anything new."

"Marcus, Barty, step forward. Lucius, you may step back for now." Marcus glanced to the man next to him and took a step forward with him, both bowing quickly before straightening up and waiting for their lord to acknowledge them. "Tell me what you have found about our mystery baker."

"My Lord, we searched many different muggle censuses and records. From what we have found, he is called Horatio Waterhouse, though he tends to go by Harry. He owns the bakery and a small cottage on the edge of town, both were left to him in his great aunt's will, a woman who was his legal guardian from the age of eleven. He is seemingly very intelligent, finishing muggle school early and taking the muggle equivalent to NEWTs at fifteen, then gaining a degree in culinary arts, by the age of seventeen. His guardian, Sylvia Waterhouse, died when he was twenty and left everything to him. There is no record of him before the age of eleven, nor is there any birth certificate available anywhere," Barty told him with barely a twitch, which Marcus found impressive for the man.

"Anything else?"

"I asked around about him, My Lord. Generally he is a well liked young man, with many in the town feeling protective of him due to his disabilities and general frail appearance. Many believe him to be slightly touched in the head and I did speak to one person, a past teacher of his, who told me he suspected Harry had some form of schizophrenia. However, as far as I could find, there are no records of him being diagnosed as such or even having an appointment with a mind healer to diagnose it."

"So we are not the only ones wondering about young Mr Waterhouse's sanity. Did either of you find out anything else about him?"

"Just one other thing, My Lord," Barty said, sounding anxious about whatever it was he was going to tell them.

"Yes?"

"Well, it seems that he closes his bakery every year for the month of October. No one knows why but he has done so each year for the past two years. He also disappeared for that month every year since graduating, though his aunt did not follow him wherever he went as she never closed the shop."

"And no one knows where he goes for an entire month? No one at all?"

"No, My Lord. It is likely the aunt knew, but she never told anyone before she died."

"Well, I believe we should work on bugging his shop then. We need to find out what he knows, if anything at all and if he is in contact with anyone in the wizarding world. Marcus, given you have already been there and are close in age to him, perhaps you could befriend him, see if you can find anything out that way."

"Yes, My Lord, although…"

"Yes?"

"In all the research I did, not once did anyone ever mention a friend or anyone close to him other than his aunt. I will try to get close to him, my lord, but I do not see it being easy."

"I will take that into account then. Other than befriending him, I think we should place eavesdropping charms on several items around him, does anyone have an animagus form that may help in spying on him?"

"Oh! My Lord, I am a bird. I could possibly spy on him whenever he is outside," Nott senior said, sounding smug about the fact, though Marcus had seen what bird he was and turning into a common robin was really nothing exciting. It didn't say much positive about the man's personality either.

"Very well then. We shall follow this plan then and as soon as anyone finds out any information that they think is important, then come and tell me. Otherwise, do what you feel is necessary to find out if he is in contact with any wizards but do not allow him to get suspicious."

* * *

"So you don't know what kind of bird he is then?" Harry asked, wiping down the counter as he prepared to open the shop on the monday following his ritual. He'd spent most of the day before, once he had woken up, playing with his new bead and commenting on it, much to his aunt and the Peverell's irritation.

_"Sadly not, lad. He's a nasty sort though, you be careful now. I don't want something happening to you."_

_"No, none of us do. Perhaps you should summon Him for some more help,"_ Ignotus suggested, making Harry furiously shake his head.

"No, no, no. That is not going to happen. I can't bother Him with this! Why would He want to know about this?" Harry asked, a slight hysterical tinge to his voice as he thought about how pissed Death would be if Harry chose to bother Him about something unimportant.

_"It is hardly unimportant. And He has already offered His support in this judging by the gift He gave you._"

"Yes, and that was enough! I can't ask for anything more from Him! Look, I'm sure it'll all be fine and we're all worrying about noth—" Harry paused mid word when the bell above the shop entrance rang and the huge death eater that Frank said was called Marcus walked in, eyeing him strangely and then looking around.

"Were you talking to someone?"

"Um… no? I er… I talk to myself sometimes. You know, listing the things I need to do out loud so I don't forget them. Um… can I help you with something? In here for anything in particular?" Harry asked him, hoping that his nerves didn't show in his voice, but already feeling the difference the bead was making by allowing him to focus on the living as opposed to the dead. Something he has never truly been able to do before now.

"I came in for another pie. And eclairs."

"Oh right, same kind of pie as last time? Cherry, right?"

"Want to try something new. Apple this time."

"Oh right, well actually, I don't have any apple pies made right now, but if you come back in about an hour, then I will have one made for you. I can get you the eclairs now though."

"No, I'll get them when I come back."

"Okay then. I'll make sure to have your pie ready for you in an hour then! See you later!" Harry said cheerfully, watching him as he left the shop and then through the window to make sure he'd actually left.

_"Bug."_

"What?"

_"Go into the kitchen. Don't speak until you do!"_ Harry frowned at Antioch's order but followed it all the same, figuring he needed to be in there anyway if he was going to be making a pie. Stepping into the kitchen, door swinging shut behind him and making sure that the mic for the bell was on so he could hear if anyone came into the shop, Harry grabbed the ingredients he would need to make an apple pie and then leaned against the counter.

"So? What was that all about?"

_"He placed a bug. They can now hear everything you say in the main shop front. You should be safe in here though._"

"Man, really? So what do I do? And don't say summon Him. You know I won't do that. He's got better things to do than look after me. Also, I've got a query."

_"Oh?"_

"Yeah, say Dumbledick finds me. I've got a choice then. It's either him or Voldepants. I don't really have anywhere else I can run, let's face it. And I certainly don't stand a chance against either one on my own. So, which is the lesser of two evils?"

_"Both would want to control you._"

"Oh, I know that. But isn't it bad luck to kill a necromancer? It'd certainly piss Death off. So I figure I could possibly stand up to them, not let them control me. It's not like they could force me to raise the dead or anything."

_"True. But there are worse things than death. Neither would hesitate in going down that route to control you. Plus, no one knows what a necromancer is anymore so they do not know about the bad luck of killing one."_

"Okay. So, lesser of two evils? Which would you recommend I go to? Hypothetically of course."

_"Voldemort."_

"Really? Why him?"

_"He respects Death to the point of fearing Him. Were you to explain why it is against your code to raise the dead, then he would probably accept it. He would still use you though, just for things less likely to get you punished."_

"Okay then, so Voldemort is the lesser of two evils. I'll make a note of it and just pray it never comes to the point where I need to run to him for protection. What _is_ happening on Dumbledick's side?" Harry asked as he thinly sliced a cooking apple.

_"He is still searching for you, though not as thoroughly as he could, thankfully. Your brother has started rebelling against his trainers, apparently realising he is a young man and all his friends are going out partying whilst he is stuck training day and night. Your sisters recently found a photo of you and asked who you were. Your father claims you died."_

"Nice of him. It's going to be mighty hard to explain that away should Dumbledore succeed and find me. And are they actually relying on a twenty-four year old man to win this war for them?"

_"Technically, they expected a fifteen year old boy to win the war for them. As the Light slowly loses more ground, Dumbledore gets more and more desperate. We're still not sure why he feels he is the leader, nor why he can't accept that Voldemort actually has some good ideas on how to change the wizarding world. But Dumbledore was to blame for Voldemort's rise in the first place. Tom Riddle tried to go about it legally at first, but Dumbledore kept blacklisting him until he decided to go dark. No one really knows what Dumbledore wants out of all this anymore. But still everyone stays blind to his faults. If you are lucky, then you won't get dragged into all this and be forced to witness the wizarding world collapse."_

"When have I ever been lucky? I broke my foot by falling down a drain once. There is nothing lucky about me."

_"Then you had either better start hoping your luck picks up or start considering summoning Him."_

* * *

Harry stumbled on his way to the back kitchen and caught himself on the wall by the door, allowing himself to slide down it and place his head on his knees to try and stave off the dizzy spell that hit him.

"He's been here almost a month and this is the first time someone has died painfully. You have to commend him for his self-restraint, being a dark lord and all," Harry mumbled into his knees, breathing deeply when he felt his stomach give an unpleasant lurch.

_"Frank has gone to see what happened. Just stay there and catch your breath."_

"That was not fun. Is that going to happen every time he kills someone painfully? Because if so, I'm going to suggest once more that we leave."

_"It'll get easier. This was just the first time you have been within a few miles of this kind of thing. Eventually you won't even notice it beyond a small clench of the stomach."_

"Great. Shame I live near a Dark Lord who will probably be killing people left right and centre every day now. It's going to look weird if I collapse each time until I get used to it."

_"The Dark Lord didn't kill me."_ Harry jerked and looked up from his knees when he heard a deep, controlled voice of someone he'd never heard before.

"I'm guessing it was your death I just felt, Mr… Snape?" Harry asked, feeling out so he could find out what he could about his new visitor from the spirits presence.

_"Indeed, Mr Waterhouse, or should I call you Mr Peverell?"_

"Either works. Not like you can tell anyone what you now know. You could, of course, just call me Harry. Anyway, if he didn't kill you, who did? A pissed off Death Eater?" Harry asked, shakily standing up now that he felt a little less dizzy. He had things to make in preparation for tomorrow morning and didn't have the time to laze around on the floor.

_"I was poisoned, ironically. Not by a Death Eater, but by someone on the other side. I don't know who, but I have my suspicions."_

"Huh, how come the other side poisoned you?" Harry asked as he started to gather the ingredients he'd need.

_"I was a spy and I suppose someone either found out or suspected I wasn't as loyal as I wanted them to believe. Of course, the person I suspect poisoned me has never liked me even before I joined the Dark Lord, so who knows why he did it. Probably just to get rid of me finally._"

"Well that sucks. So what has the Dark Lord found out about me recently now that I've moved his bugged chair outside?" Harry asked, grinning evilly at what he imagined the Dark Lord's reaction would have been to that.

_"He hasn't found much out that you don't know about. He has been more focused on Dumbledore recently. The old menace has been trying to pass a few laws that would mean every child with magic in Britain would have to attend Hogwarts and also wishes the ministry to do a sweep of the country to pin point every witch or wizard. Of course, that last one is a violation of privacy but Dumbledore doesn't seem to care. He's quite focused on finding someone and feels that would be the best way to find them._"

"I bet I know who he's looking for. Shame he won't find me that way," Harry muttered with a shrug, rubbing the ingredients for pastry together.

_"Ah, but the old fool doesn't know that, does he? He thinks you're a wizard because your mother didn't believe you were a squib, regardless of the fact no Hogwarts letter arrived,"_ Ignotus pointed out and Harry nodded his head in agreement. He was constantly grateful that no one knew what a true necromancer was and therefore had no idea what to look for.

"Let's hope if he does get his way, that it makes him drop his hunt for me."

* * *

A few days after the death of Severus Snape - and the man had clearly taken some sort of liking to Harry as he had yet to leave him alone and go back to where Harry liked to call the Green Room of the Dead - and Harry was once again eating his lunch, this time a small salad, when the bell rang and a tall man with mousy brown hair Harry hadn't seen before walked in along with the annoyingly bratty blond and the brute of a man that was slowly becoming one of Harry's regulars.

"Hello," Harry welcomed warily, eyeing the three men and feeling highly uncomfortable at having three fully trained wizards in his shop, one of which was eyeing him like he was something scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

"I don't know why I had to be here," the blond muttered in a whiny voice that made Harry roll his eyes and be thankful his dark glasses hid it from the three, though the amused look on Marcus' face let Harry know he had guessed what Harry had done.

_"Ah, my delightful godson, Draco Malfoy. Along with Adrian Pucey and Marcus Flint. All heirs of prestigious pureblood families. Though Draco really does take the spoilt brat thing a bit too far. He liked to consider himself the nemesis of your older brother, actually, which is amusing considering Charlus was more focused on surviving whatever the Dark Lord threw at him and barely even noticed Draco. Much as Lucius would like to think otherwise, Draco never has been the brightest."_ Harry's lip twitched in amusement at Snape's caustic commentary about the three in front of him, and he mentally took note of their names, in particular Marcus', glad that Frank hadn't been wrong about the man's name.

"Back for more pie?" Harry asked, smiling brightly in hopes to hide the fact he was trying not to laugh. Draco just sneered at him whilst Marcus smirked and Adrian elbowed Draco to shut him up.

"Why are we in here with the crazy muggle?" Harry glanced at Draco before turning his attention back to Marcus and pretending he hadn't heard that. Not that he exactly blamed anyone for thinking he was crazy.

"I came for another cherry pie. And some eclairs," Marcus added, looking like he wasn't sure he should know why he had to buy more eclairs.

"Who wants eclairs?! Get me a strawberry tart, muggle."

"Er… right. So, a cherry pie, a strawberry tart and how many eclairs would you like?" Harry asked politely, hoping he looked like he had no idea what a muggle was. Although either way it sounded insulting.

_"As you've probably gathered, my godson is one of those bizarre purebloods who doesn't want muggles to know about us and yet walks around like the statute of secrecy is just for everyone else and what he says won't ever have any consequences. In short, he's a moron."_

"Six eclairs." Harry just nodded his head, and went about packing up the order for them, all the while silently wondering if Draco was aware his godfather thought he was a moron.

"Okay then, here's your order, that'll be five seventy then please," Harry told them as he handed over the boxes to Adrian whilst Marcus searched his pockets for money.

"We have to pay? What kind of place is this?"

"A shop," Harry pointed out, wondering if Snape wasn't being a bit too kind when calling the blond a moron.

"Do you know who I am?"

"No, do you know who I am?" Harry asked back pleasantly, smiling even as Draco glared at him and had to be held back by Marcus to do who knows what to Harry. Of course, were he to do something, then Harry would totally have no qualms against using his soul against him at a later date.

"My father will hear about this, you mark my words!"

"And he would be? Look, do you want the food or not? This place here, is a shop. You may not have heard of those before but they sell, meaning you pay money for, different goods. This shop, _my_ shop, sells baked goods. Sells. Not gives away to pompous twats who think they own the world!" Harry snapped, talking to Draco slowly just incase the idiot didn't quite comprehend his words.

"Who do you think you are talking to like that?!"

"Someone who doesn't know what a shop is. And also, someone who is banned from this shop. Thank you for your custom, but please don't bring him back with you next time," Harry added politely as Marcus handed him the money and took the boxes of food.

"We won't. Sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about. Blondie does," Harry told them with a small smile, getting one back in return as Adrian frog marched Draco out of the shop. Marcus then nodded at him and followed the other two out of his shop, leaving Harry alone to give a shaky sigh of relief and slump back into his chair. "That was tense."

_"You may have gained their attention even more now. Not many would dare to talk back to a Malfoy. Even most muggles can sense he is wealthy enough to cause them some trouble should they insult him,"_ Severus pointed out to him, only for Harry to just shrug his shoulders.

"I can do worse to him than he can do to me in the long run. Besides, the little brat needed a good dressing down! You're right, he is a total moron!" Harry muttered, scowling at the door as though daring Draco to come back.

_"Well, you are right. It would be child's play to you to kill him."_

"Oh no, I can't kill him. He would spend the rest of my life whining incessantly and probably calling me a peasant. So no, unless he dies hundreds of miles from me, then he has to stay alive for as long as I do. Of course, saying that, it doesn't mean I won't make his life miserable if he pisses me off again."

* * *

Once again Marcus was called to a meeting with the rest of the inner circle, though this time Adrian Pucey and Draco Malfoy were also called and Marcus couldn't help but wait for the Dark Lord's reaction to Draco screwing up. The annoyance needed taking down a peg or two.

"So tell me, does anyone have anything new to share about our little mystery in town? Did you manage to set a new charm in the shop? One that wouldn't so easily be moved outside of his shop?" The Dark Lord asked them, a dangerous note to his voice that told all of them he wasn't impressed by them so far. Which was part of the reason Marcus brought back eclairs each time he went there. It had so far saved him from a few Crucios.

"We did manage to put listening charms on his counter so he won't be moving that. However, there is one problem, My Lord," Adrian added nervously, glancing at the side to Marcus, who shrugged, whilst Draco seemed to get a bit paler, though still managed to look put out by the whole thing.

"Oh?"

"It might not be important, My Lord."

"Spit it out."

"What Pucey doesn't want to tell you, My Lord, is that Malfoy acted like a complete idiot and managed to get himself banned from the shop. He also went out of his way to insult the man and called him a muggle on a few occasions," Marcus said, shrugging when Draco glared at him, though Adrian gave a small, barely audible sigh of relief next to him.

"Draco, step forward," the Dark Lord said in a dangerously low and calm voice. Draco paled even further and took a shaky step forward. "What do you have to say?"

"M-My Lord, that… That muggle, he was rude! I was just… Letting him know his place!" Draco exclaimed, which just made Marcus roll his eyes and barely withhold the scoff he wanted to let out.

"Indeed. And how exactly is that helping us? In what way was he rude to you that justified practically telling him of the wizarding world? Tell me, Draco, does your account at Gringotts mean that you don't need a brain?"

"M-my lord!"

"_Crucio_." Marcus didn't bother hiding his smirk as the mini Malfoy fell to the floor screaming in pain. After a few minutes, the Dark Lord lifted the spell and sneered at the now whimpering Malfoy on the floor. "Marcus, set up the listening charm so that we can listen if he has any suspicions about us, and Draco, do shut up."

Marcus just smirked even wider as the mini Malfoy gave a feeble whimper before painfully dragging himself to stand and moving so that he was no longer in view of the Dark Lord. Marcus just sneered at him as he passed and then placed the small glass orb that he had linked the listening charm to and amplified it so they could all listen.

_"Thanks for coming! I'll make sure to have that cake ready for your niece's birthday, don't worry, Ms Cornet." _They all heard the bell of the door ring and then the door closing, then there was silence for a few moments before the baker started to speak once more. _"I don't see why he'd come here. It's not like there's a sign above the town saying 'here he is, come get him!'. Besides, only my mum knew where she left me and she's too pissed to tell anyone."_

There was another pause and everyone went quiet in hopes they could hear whoever it was he was talking to, though without any success.

_"I'm not summoning Him. No matter how much you badger me about it. I'd rather not piss Him off and die, thanks. And I don't care if that pompous little blond moron does come back here with his dear old daddy. I'd like to have a few words with the idiot that raised that twat to let him know what he'd brought on the world. Seriously, holding a pillow over that brat's face would be a service to mankind."_

There were a few snickers, though when either Malfoy turned to glare at a culprit, everyones faces were blank and showing no amusement at all.

_"No really, you'd get the Victoria Cross and everything! Wait, what's up? What? Oh for fucks sake! Back to the kitchen then."_ And with that they heard another door being closed and then silence, with a barely audible muffled conversation happening in what must have been the kitchen.

"He knows."

"My Lord?" Marcus asked, not entirely sure what the Dark Lord was talking about.

"He knows that we can hear what he says in the shop front. I don't know how, but he does. It also sounds like he may still have contact with his mother, and if we what we suspect about him being a squib is true, then she is going to be a witch. Which means he also knows about magic."

"What do you want to do now then, My Lord?" Barty Crouch asked, stepping forward a little and boxing when the Dark Lord looked at him.

"If he does know about magic, then he definitely knows about us. Especially with Draco spouting off about muggles. If that is the case, then he's going to be wary about us even if he doesn't know who we are. I think, right now, Marcus should carry on working on getting close to him. See what comes from that. The rest of us should focus on heading off Dumbledore on the new laws he is trying to subtly get passed. However, if we haven't made anymore leeway by the end of August, then we should move forward and question him on what he knows. We cannot afford to leave any loose ends. Especially now."

* * *

**A/N - So, things are moving along a bit now and it's getting nearer to the point where he won't have a choice but acknowledge the wizarding world. Unless, of course, he risks pissing Death off and summons Him.**

**Oh, and if you were wondering, officially (in the muggle world) Harry is called Horatio Waterhouse. Officially amongst the dead, and were he to return to the wizarding world, Harry is called Horatio Peverell. He isn't, technically speaking, a Potter anymore.**

**Also, a few people in reviews mentioned Charlus as Harry's twin. He's not. To clear up confusion, here's Harry and his siblings dates of birth:**

**Charlus - 31****st**** July, 1979 (yes, he's the boy who lived. Harry isn't.)**

**Harry – 31****st**** October, 1980 (Due to the fact he was born after 31****st**** August, he would have been two years below Charlus in school)**

**Rose and Dahlia – 7****th**** December, 1983**


	6. Chapter 5

**Sorry this is a little late! I got distracted by the Commonwealth Games! XD  
****Enjoy this chapter! **

Chapter Five

Through most of July, Marcus became quite the regular in Harry's bakery, even going so far as to flatter Mrs Lovage and actually get Mr Plimkin to greet him once, which really was quite the accomplishment as it took Harry working every day after school for five years before the man even acknowledged him. If he didn't know better, Harry would have suspected that Marcus had put a spell on the habitants of Little Hangleton.

Actually, he _didn't_ know better and that was a good possibility, but regardless of that fact, Harry was finding it really hard to dislike the man. He was sarcastic and snide, but so very hilarious with that caustic personality. Plus, he really seemed to like Harry's pies, and anyone that liked his food was good by Harry.

The only downside was that he was a wizard who possibly wanted to kill Harry. That would really clash with Harry's plans to have a long life. If he ignored all that though, then Harry was quite happy to finally say he had a living friend. Or at the very least someone alive who went out of their way to talk to him whilst paying for and eating baked goods.

Really then, it was just Fate's dodgy sense of humour that made it all come crashing down around him and forced Harry to show some of his cards.

It was the fourth day of August and Harry was enjoying a lie in for once, not having to wake up early to get ready for the shop as it was a Sunday and making the most of it. Unfortunately, a wave of freezing air washed over him, waking him up earlier than he had to and confusing him because it was currently sweltering outside.

_"You need to wake up now!"_ Harry jerked to sit up, sleepily blinking his eyes open when Antioch shouted at him.

"Wait, what? What's going on? It's Sunday, I don't have to get up," Harry whined, falling back down into his pillows and trying to get away from the evil dead waking him.

_"You need to wake up and get to Riddle Manor. It's time to decide! Dumbledore has found you and it is only a matter of time before he brings people here. It's only the early hour that is hindering him. Quickly now. You're not safe."_

"Well shit! What do I do? Where do I go?" Harry asked, and if asked later, he would fully admit that he was shit in tense situations and apparently lost all common sense.

_"Calm down. You have a bit of time. Dumbledore has only just called for reinforcement. Now, grab all your tools, books and crystals. Don't leave behind anything that could tip them off that you know about magic. That includes Horus. He needs to go live in the woods. You're lucky he's an indigenous owl."_

"There is nothing lucky about owning that owl. Besides, I'm fully aware that he owns me. What kind of barn owl just decides to live with a random human?"

_"You don't have time to rant, idiot boy!"_ Aunty Sylv hissed, making Harry flush guiltily and jump out of bed. He grabbed the first clothes he found that were clean - baggy black trousers that were at least two sizes too big and he really had no idea where he got them from, a black t-shirt and strangely, a pair of lime green trainers. He really had no clue as to when he got those.

Once he was dressed and his hair was brushed - causing a brief moment of pain when he forgot that he had beads in his hair and didn't move them out of the way, making him feel like he'd scalped himself when he dragged his brush over them. Tears were definitely brought to his eyes - he grabbed his backpack from the chair next to his bed, threw all of his knives in there - including the few he had yet to use - and the few candles he had, then ran down the stairs to his kitchen.

In there, he opened his clutter drawer and took out all the chalk in there he could find, a blood-stained silk cloth he used on some rituals - _not_ the same one used during bead rituals - all the crystals he had bought on whims, and any herbs and incense sticks he kept on the sides and then he finally made his way into the living room, grabbing another bag on his way past.

When in there, he grabbed every book he had managed to buy on necromancy, death arts, death gods and death in general. He took the experimental voodoo dolls - not that he was a voodoo specialist, he just thought they were nice to look at and fun to make - from his desk and finally grabbed his authentic Venetian Plague Doctor mask that his aunt had bought him on his eighteenth birthday from where it was placed on the wall and slung it on his head before darting out of the front door.

_"Run to Riddle Cemetery! You'll be safe there! Run now!"_ Harry jerked in shock at hearing the voice of Severus for the first time in a couple of weeks before he nodded and ran towards his favourite cemetery, keeping to the slowly receding shadows and taking all the well known shortcuts and alleys until he finally reached the small family cemetery belonging to the creepy and intimidating Riddle Family.

As soon as he stepped over the threshold, he felt a slight pressure pushing against him before a shudder went through him and he stumbled forward, grabbing onto the nearest headstone to stop his fall.

"That's never happened before."

_"It was the wards. However, no one can prevent a necromancer access to a cemetery or burial plot. In the days when people knew what we were, no one was foolish enough to prevent us access to the dead,"_ Antioch added bitterly, which made Harry roll his eyes.

"That's great and all, but someone's going to know I'm here and I have no idea _why_ I'm here other than the fact Dumbledore's found me," Harry hissed, tapping his fingers against the grave he was leaning on and shaking his head when he felt an eager tug on his magic. "Not now, Ernest."

"I would also like to know why you are trespassing on my land." Harry was ashamed to admit he shrieked like a little girl, jumping in the air and spinning around to face whoever had spoken, paling when he saw it was the Dark Lord himself.

_"Tell him you came for sanctuary."_

"Sanctuary?! Are you serious? This isn't the seventeenth century and he isn't a bloody priest!" Harry hissed, before a cough drew his attention back to Voldemort, who now had his wand out and was tapping it against his free hand. "Right. Sanctuary. Great. Look, that barmy old man, Dumbledore, has finally found out where I live. I have no idea how, but he has. Uncle Antioch told me to come here."

"And I'd help you, why? What makes you think I care that you are hiding from Dumbledore for whatever reason it is?"

"Er…"

_"Tell him you can help him!"_

"I can help! You. I can help you! In this war! I can help you in this war?"

"How? By baking our way to success?"

"Oh, that was low. I mean, it was a good shot, but mean at the same time. Look, I know you've been keeping an eye on me. Looking into my background, making your lackeys make friends with me in hopes you'll find out more. Well, here I am! Now you can find out more! Just, please, don't let that insane fool get me!" Harry pleaded, flinching when Voldemort took a step forward, wand held at his side as though to give false hope he wouldn't use it.

"You need to tell me how you can help me. And do it quick, I don't have much patience and it's coming to an end."

_"Tell him you can hear the dead! Don't tell him anything else, just that! They know you seem to hear voices, he should believe you."_

"I can hear the dead. Everyone that has passed away, whether naturally or not, within twenty-five miles of here, I can hear."

"How will that help me?" Voldemort asked after a second in which he narrowed his eyes at Harry suspiciously.

"Yeah, how will that help?!" Harry asked hysterically, throwing his hands in the air and glaring at nothing when he noticed Voldemort had raised his wand slightly.

_"Tell him the dead have no secrets! We have no need for them. Nothing tends to be worth protecting once you are dead and whatever we were hiding in life, you can't take with you in death."_

"Right," Harry nodded his head and swallowed loudly, before straightening his back and staring at Voldemort, "the dead don't care for secrets. Whatever they knew in life, they'll willingly tell me. And what they tell me, I'll tell you."

"How will that help me?"

"Look, when you're dead, things like magic and pureblood bollocks doesn't matter. You can't take the magic with you. You can't take the family properties or the heirlooms. Most importantly, when you're dead, you don't tend to hold grudges. I can tell you what the other side is up to. Plus, the dead gossip worse than little old ladies in the laundrette."

"You said that you only heard those that have died within twenty-five miles. How will it help me if no one with information dies near you?"

"I told you, the dead gossip! Just because I can't hear them, doesn't mean they don't speak to each other as well. They tend to tell me what they've heard. How do you think I know Dumbledore has found me? They told me!" Harry told him, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest petulantly when the man just raised an eyebrow at him, clearly not impressed. Harry was less impressed with his impending death.

"I give you a safe place to live, you will tell me anything important the dead tell you about?"

"Yep."

"Very well. Follow me," Voldemort told him, turning on the spot and walking back towards the manor, robes whipping around him in a dramatic way and making Harry wonder if he was just walking towards a holding cell.

Harry just took a deep breath however, and followed after the imposing man, really hoping that the man hadn't renovated and made his home the first manor in Yorkshire to have dungeons.

_"There ain't no dungeons in that house, lad._"

"Great. That's good then," Harry muttered, not bothering trying to be discreet when talking to the anymore as he really didn't see any point. "Fuck!" Harry hissed just as someone grabbed his ankle and he fell over, only just missing taking Voldemort down with him, which he was sure would have been a sure fire way to die very quickly.

"What are you doing?"

"Er… I tripped on something," Harry told him nervously, smoothing his baggy trouser leg down and covering the skeletal hand that was now stroking his ankle.

"Get up, I don't have time for your dithering."

"Right. Got it. No dithering. Um… I'll er… be back. No, really, stop it. Please? Oh god, I'm going to be killed because the dead are chatty," Harry muttered, slapping at the hand still holding his ankle, before he heard a whispered apology and the hand disappeared back into the grave. Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Harry quickly scrambled to stand up and once more moved to follow behind Voldemort, who's irritation was practically palpable.

When they finally reached the Manor, Voldemort pushed the doors open and strode through them without a backwards glance, leaving Harry to pause at the door anxiously and glance back the way he'd come, hoping he wasn't about to make a big mistake.

* * *

Marcus wondered why they had all been called for a meeting early on a Sunday morning and why the Dark Lord looked a cross between excited and infuriated.

"You may be wondering why I have called you all so early. It is about Horatio Waterhouse. I have come across quite the informant."

"Do you need us to find out more about him then, My Lord?" Barty asked, apparently not listening to their Lord, Marcus thought with a roll of his eyes. Though he was curious as to what the Dark Lord had found out about Harry.

"No, Barty. There is no need. Mr Waterhouse came to me about an hour ago. It would seem that Dumbledore has been searching for him and finally found out where he lives. He came to me to hide him from Dumbledore."

"My Lord, may I ask why a muggle would need to hide from Dumbledore," Lucius asked, distaste of Harry clear in his tone, apparently he hadn't forgiven Harry for wanting to smother his idiot son.

"I have discovered why he is so strange, and yes, Lucius, if Dumbledore were to know about it, then he would want to control the boy. Apparently he saw me as the lesser of two evils," the Dark Lord told them, his amusement over the irony clear in his tone.

"May I ask what is so special about the muggle, My Lord?" Marcus' father asked, the man hadn't been all too impressed that his son had been told to befriend said muggle and Marcus hadn't told him that he'd actually started to like the man.

"The dead talk to him. He has told me that, in exchange for safety, he will tell me everything the dead tell him that he deems important," the Dark Lord told them all, making each of them gape at him.

"Surely he lies, My Lord!"

"Amusingly, he said you would be the one to say that, Lucius. Apparently Severus has taken a liking to him and has told him quite a bit about us all. He has said that the dead do not feel a need to keep secrets from him and that they like to gossip, so you should all take care not to annoy him. After all, there are plenty of dead people in all of your families that would seemingly be happy to tell him whatever he wants to know," the Dark Lord told them with a malicious smirk. Marcus grinned as he glanced out the corner of his eye at his father and the Malfoy's all looking a little pale.

"You're kidding, right? That muggle can speak to the dead? And why would Severus like him? He's insane!" Draco whined, making Marcus roll his eyes and wonder if it was an impossibility for the idiot to think before he spoke.

"I get the impression that Horatio doesn't like you. And considering he has already been told several family secrets by Abraxas, I would be very careful on how you treat him. Now, as he asked for safety, I granted him it and that means safety from you as well. If you cannot restrain yourselves from harming him in anyway, then do not go looking for him. And do not whine to me when it backfires. That man has the dead on his side, I would say you should all be very wary around him," the Dark Lord told them, smirking when many of the Death Eaters looked at one another anxiously. "You are all dismissed."

Slowly they all left the room, some talking to each other anxiously, clearly worried about what secrets the no longer harmless muggle baker could find out. Marcus watched them go before he was the only one left in the room and walked forward, bowing slightly before straightening.

"Marcus, is there a reason you are still here?"

"I was just going to ask where Harry is. I wouldn't mind going to see him. I have actually found that I quite like him. He might be clinically insane, but he's amusing and very intelligent."

"Very well. He should be either in his room on the third floor, the large room on the end of the corridor of he left wing, or he may be in the library. He seemed interested in that when it was mentioned."

"Thank you, My Lord," Marcus said, turning to leave the room, not wishing to stay in the Dark Lord's presence for too long in case he annoyed him somehow.

"Marcus," Voldemort called out, making Marcus stop before he left the room and turn to look at him, "keep an eye on him. If need be, protect the younger Malfoy from him."

"Er… Protect Malfoy from Harry, My Lord?"

"Yes, Draco may believe he is the better because he has magic, but there is a feeling to Harry that tells me he could be very dangerous if pushed. Draco is well known for antagonising the most saintly of people."

"You have a point, My Lord. I'll make sure to keep an eye on him."

"That is all I ask, Marcus. You may leave." Marcus nodded his head, then left the room and made his way to the library on the second floor, figuring it was on the way to where Harry's room was anyway.

* * *

"Right, so where is that then?"

_"It's the wall at the end of the third row of shelves on the right. I don't know what books are on them now admittedly but the layout of the library hasn't changed."_

"Okay. Why am I doing this again?"

_"You said you were bored. I told you about the secret room. Even if no one has found it yet, there isn't anything of import in there."_

_"It could be a good place to hide if no one knows about it,"_ Ignotus pointed out, making Harry nod his head and then head towards where Tom Riddle senior told him the secret room was.

"It could be a good place. So, any recommendations of books to read?"

"I'd answer, but I don't actually think you're asking me." Harry, for the second time that day, yelped and jumped in the air, before turning on his heels to face who had spoken, coming face to face - more like face to chest - with Marcus.

"Marcus! How are you? Fancy meeting you here? Um…"

"My Lord told me about you. In fact he told all of his closest followers. We've been warned not to harm you and told that you might be able to find out secrets about us?" Marcus asked, grinning down at Harry, who fidgeted where he stood and then moved to, what he hoped looked casually, lean against a shelf.

"Oh? Thats… okay, yeah, I know. You'll probably learn that's there not much I don't know. It's hard to keep secrets from me. Apparently Abraxas Malfoy was quite amused by his descendants reactions. Actually, Severus was very amused."

"I was amused. So, you can talk to the dead, huh?"

"Yep. Honestly, it's not all that great. They're really quite annoying. Always bickering and nagging at me. Though, they do help. I mean, it's thanks to them that I always made sure to have a cherry pie ready for the days you'd be coming by. And they tell me the favourite cakes and sweets of all the people in the town that might visit the bakery."

"Explains why you always seemed to have what I wanted. Except that one time."

"Yeah, I totally thought you'd want cherry pie. So, how come you're in here? You do know you don't have to pretend to be my friend now, right? The Dark Lord knows my secrets now."

"Not all of them, I'd wager."

"Nope, of course not. That wasn't the deal. The deal was the secrets of the dead, not the secrets of the living. And I'm still alive. And don't think I'll be telling you any either. You'll just run back to your lord and tell him," Harry said, trying to make a joke of it, but fearing he hadn't quite been able to hide the hurt he felt knowing that Marcus really had no need to talk to him anymore and so didn't need to pretend to like him either.

"That's fair. Though, I'm here to talk to you because I wanted to, not because the Dark Lord told me. I know I don't need to get close to you anymore, but I still want to. You amuse me."

"Fine. Though I get the feeling there's more to it than that."

"Well, the Dark Lord did tell me to stop you from maiming the Malfoy brat."

"Your Dark Lord is a clever guy."

"I'm still not entirely sure how someone without magic could best someone with it, but you're right, the Dark Lord is intelligent, so I'll assume he knows."

"Well, beside the fact a bullet moves just as fast, if not faster, than a spell, I have other ways to defend myself. So what do you actually do around here?" Harry asked, following Marcus to where there were a couple of comfortable looking chairs and sitting down in one, placing his bag that he refused to leave alone besides his feet.

"I'm the heir to a prestigious family, so I'm training to take over the family business and so on," Marcus told him, eyes glancing at Harry's bag curiously before drifting back to Harry.

"Sounds thrilling," Harry said, tone of voice telling that he thought it was anything but.

"Yeah, it's really not. But it's got to be learnt. So, what's in your bag?" Marcus asked him, smirking when Harry narrowed his eyes at him.

"Nothing," Harry told him defensively. Given everyone here just thought he could only talk to the dead, they'd be a little suspicious as to why he had the stuff he had in his bag.

"Really? Seems pretty full for there being nothing in there," Marcus pointed out with a grin, which just widened when Harry glared at him.

"Fine, there's stuff in there. It's none of your business what it is though," Harry told him snappishly, feeling irritated that it only made Marcus grin.

"Okay, I'll stop asking. How come you didn't go to Dumbledore? Most would choose the so called Lord of the Light over the Dark Lord."

"Most people are idiots. And also, most people can't talk to the dead. The main reason though, is that, even though they don't tend to carry their grudges over, the dead really don't like Dumbledore. They told me to come here. Dumbledore would have resented and hated my talent but he'd have used it and made me do things I don't want to do. Your Dark Lord respects death, to an extent, and he certainly wouldn't want to piss Death off."

* * *

Later that night, Harry quietly opened his bedroom door, wincing a little as it creaked but hurrying through it anyway. He carefully held his bag to his chest so that it didn't make any noise or bump into anything as he made his way through the shadowy corridors and down the stairs until he reached the door he had come in through. Glancing around him, he slowly pushed the door open and then slipped out through the gap when it was wide enough and slowly let the door close behind him silently.

Giving a happy sigh of relief that he'd made it through the foreboding house without being seen or stopped, Harry walked down the stone steps and made his way swiftly and silently to the cemetery.

In no time at all, Harry made it to his favourite grave - ironically the grave of Voldemort's father - and sat down, leaning against it with his bag resting against his thigh.

"It's quite tense in there, isn't it?" Harry pointed out, focusing his energy into the air around him for the first time since Voldemort had moved to Little Hangleton and grinning widely when the only family that were happy to acknowledge him appear before him as slightly smokey apparitions.

_"What exactly did you expect from the home of a Dark Lord?"_ His aunt asked him with a roll of her eyes, moving to sit carefully on a small headstone. Antioch, Ignotus and Cadmus all just rolled their eyes, as though nothing Harry came out with would shock them anymore.

"Well, I didn't expect kittens and candy canes, but, you know, I figured I wouldn't constantly be wondering when someone would try to curse me whilst screaming about magic eaters or something."

_"Magic eaters?"_ Antioch, strangely the brother Harry most looked like with his short bob of jet black hair and pale skin, and also the tallest of the three brothers at five foot five, asked him, looking as though he regretted it immediately.

"Well, I just figured there had to be a reason for the whole muggle hatred thing and thought maybe wizards believed muggles ate magic. Or something. It could happen," Harry muttered sullenly, looking down at his trainers and not seeing Cadmus pinch the brigade of his nose and sigh.

"_I sometimes worry about your mind,"_ Cadmus admitted, he, like his younger brother Ignotus, had mousey brown hair in a bob and pale skin. He was also the shortest brother and the same height as Harry at five foot three. Ignotus was only a couple of centimetres shorter than Antioch.

_"I've always worried about his mind. But then I wonder if it's not a family thing. My sister was completely off her rocker,"_ Sylv told them with a shrug, looking around her and rolling her eyes when she saw a hand poke out of a nearby grave like some macabre submarine periscope. _"Why do the Riddles always think they can hustle in on a private conversation?"_

_"Common blood." _

"The manor behind me would suggest their blood is anything but common. You know, in the rush, I forgot to bring any spare clothes with me. Think I'd look good in a robe? I could totally carry off a robe. All swishy and shit," Harry added with a grin. "Plus, it would add something to the whole 'speak with the dead' feel I've got going, don't you think?"

"I think speaking to thin air is all you need to give a strange impression. What are you doing out here?"

Harry choked on air as he scrambled to stand up and face Voldemort, who was standing behind him looking bored and yet also lethal.

"Sweet googamooga! What the hell? You were facing him! Tell me when someone's creeping up on me like some sort of creepy stalker!" Harry exclaimed, turning to glare at his amused family. The dead really did suck at times.

_"But it's so amusing see you squeal like a little girl every time he manages to sneak up on you,"_ Sylv said, not an ounce of sympathy in her tone.

"You all suck!"

"What are you doing out here, Mr Waterhouse? I won't repeat myself again," Voldemort hissed, making Harry sneer at him before huffing and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I was having a family get together! Talking to my aunt, uncles and grandfather. That okay with you?" Harry asked sullenly, stretching the truth a little when it came to their relation to him and grinning when Antioch glared at Voldemort.

_"There was a time when necromancers were respected, you know. I think you should start reminding people why," _Antioch pointed out, whilst the other three just rolled their eyes, used to this rant.

"Why are you doing it out here? Can you not speak to the dead anywhere?" Voldemort asked him, unknowingly interrupting Antioch's rant and thus gaining an even more venomous glare from the dead necromancer.

"Actually, funny story there! See, apparently there are certain temples that the dead can't actually enter. Like Buddhist temples. Uncle Cad says that it's because all the dead people that would want to go into a buddhist temple are already being reborn. Of course, Uncle Ant says that Uncle Cad is an uncultured swine and he wouldn't be able to tell his arse from his elbow. No one actually knows why though."

_"You called me an uncultured swine?! You?! The man who gloated about his unbeatable wand, got drunk and got his throat slit! Oh yes, I'm the uncultured one!"_

_"I didn't gloat! I beat several men in duels in a row and one of them claimed I'd cheated because my wand was unbeatable! I didn't claim a thing though!" _

"Technically, the stories all say it was you that gloated," Harry pointed out, turning his back on Voldemort as he was dragged into the conversation with his uncles. Ignotus and Sylv just distanced themselves a little from all three of them and watched like they were watching the final of Wimbledon.

_"Yes, well, the stories were all written by liars! Liars and thieves!"_ Antioch yelled, cheeks becoming flushed with his anger and hair somehow gaining volume.

"Bit harsh. You don't know they were thieves."

_"Never gave back my bloody wand, did they?!"_

"Well, you were dead, weren't you? What were you gonna do with it? You're always going on and on about how you can't take it with you when you're dead, so why are you now bitching about thieves?"

_"The boy has a point, Antioch."_

_"The boy is an imbecile!" _

"Oh hey now! Don't go insulting me just because I have a - ow! What the fuck was that?!" Harry exclaimed, spinning around to glare at Voldemort whilst rubbing his lower back that was now stinging.

"That was a warning. Do not ignore me or I will do much worse to you next time," Voldemort warned him, eyes narrowing when Harry just pouted and rubbed his back.

"Fine, fine. You try to ignore them though. So what else did you want, besides to hustle in on a family meeting. A family you are not a part of," Harry pointed out, silently agreeing with his aunt about nosey Riddles.

_"Technically I did marry his great-great something aunt. Why her nephew turned my stone into a ring, I don't know. Clearly he had no idea what it was."_

"Shut up! Let's try not to get me cursed, okay? So, you were saying?" Harry asked Voldemort, smiling inanely when he saw the glare on the man's face.

"You are trying my patience, Muggle. Now tell me, why do you have to talk to them here, where you are constantly setting off my wards, instead of in the room I gave you?"

"Oh, right, well, I guess I feel more comfortable here."

"You feel more comfortable here, in a cemetery, than in the large bedroom I gave you?" Voldemort deadpanned, looking like he didn't believe a word Harry was saying. His family snickering behind him didn't help.

"Well, when you put it that way, it does sound a bit weird. But well, I grew up here in this town. And the living tend to steer clear of me, or they did when I was younger. So my only friends, if you like, were the dead. Their voices are louder in graveyards and burial grounds, and those that were buried there tend to accept that I want to have a conversation with my family, so they leave me alone," Harry admitted with a shrug.

_"You should probably tell him that the Ministry is planning a surprise raid on Malfoy Manor due to a tip off that they were harbouring the Lestranges there,"_ Ignotus suddenly spoke up, having faded away for a second, clearly to find out about the raid. _"He did want you to tell him anything important, after all, didn't he?" _

"That's true," Harry agreed with a nod before he turned to face Voldemort once more, "Apparently the ministry are going to raid Malfoy Manor in hopes of finding the Lestranges there."

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at him, before nodding. "Do they happen to know when the raid will take place?"

"Abraxas thinks it will be in about four hours time. They're aiming for five in the morning to catch them off guard," Harry told him after Ignotus got the information from Abraxas. He had no idea where Abraxas had found out the information.

"I shall inform the Malfoy's then."

"Oh! If you don't want to tip off the Ministry that you have someone on the inside, so to speak, then you should probably make sure the Malfoys are in their manor at the time of the raid. Just make sure anything incriminating, like escaped convicts, aren't found," Harry told him with a wide grin, which just grew when Voldemort glared at him.

"Strange as it may seem to you, Mr Waterhouse, but I am not completely incompetent."

"I never said you were," Harry muttered, watching as Voldemort just sneered at him and then stormed off back to his manor. Harry just snickered and then turned back to his amused family. "I feel it is going to be amusing living here. Scary as shit, admittedly, but still amusing.

**A/N - Another chapter! And, though I may be seeing things, I do believe there are hints of an actual plot! I know, shocking, right? If anyone's wondering why Voldemort is calling Harry a muggle, well for all he knows he is one. They've got suspicions that he might be a squib, but given they've found out Harry can speak to the dead, it's also highly likely that he's just a very talented (and weird) muggle. And no, they don't know for sure that he is a Potter. Voldemort suspects he might be, but they don't have any solid proof either way other than the sunglasses. Which is pretty shitty proof. **

**Oh, and in case you're wondering, the ritual that brought Voldemort back didn't take place in Little Hangleton in this fic. It'll be explained a bit more later, but for now, just know it couldn't be done here. Frank was still killed and he did take a bone from his father's grave though.**

**Also, someone reviewed to let me know you can get prosthetic contact lenses for photophobia. That may be true, but I don't know about them and they're probably expensive - I'm doubting the NHS will give you them. Plus, Harry's photophobia is part of his species, those contacts may well hinder him. *Grins* Thanks for the info, but they won't work for Harry. **

**Well, you know the deal, let me know what you think! :D**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N - This is the last weekly chapter, I'm afraid! No worries, I'll still be updating every other week, just yeah, I won't be able to write as much in coming weeks! Sorry! :(**

Chapter Six

As the week passed, the Death Eaters became used to seeing Harry walking around seemingly having a conversation with himself, though it wasn't a regular occurrence as Harry generally stuck to either the library or the cemetery. He had decided, however, that since everyone in the manor knew he spoke to the dead, he wasn't going to bother pretending he couldn't hear something they couldn't see. Plus, he'd noticed that evidence of his - even in the wizarding world - creepy talent made many of the Death Eaters give him a wide berth. He had also noticed that he had yet to bump into either Malfoy. He wasn't sure if that was deliberate or just luck.

Right that moment, on his eighth day at Riddle Manor, Harry could be found walking slowly through the hallways of the manor snickering and talking to himself. Or some random ghost. There were a couple of Death Eaters who honestly couldn't tell you which as Harry did seem crazy enough to have a full conversation with himself.

"So you're telling me that they shove an old hat on their head and allow it to read their minds?" Harry asked incredulously, snickering in delight as the passing wizards stared at him in affront as some realised what he was talking about.

_"Yes, they don't seem to see anything wrong with it."_ Severus told him dryly, clearly telling Harry his opinion on the matter as he walked beside him - Harry having pushed a small amount of energy into the man so he could finally see him.

"Right. And then, at the age of eleven, they're segregated into houses that supposedly suit their personality. At _eleven_. They're supposed to know what they want in life at eleven?! I couldn't even decide between a Snickers or a Twix at eleven, never mind which house to be sorted into that would shape me and how everyone viewed me for the rest of my life!"

_"I did say that wizards are completely nonsensical."_

"Maybe it's the magic. Maybe magic just totally fucks with your brain and makes you batshit crazy," Harry said, grinning widely at the insulted looks he got with that statement. Severus though just nodded.

_"It's probably a good theory. Now, did you still want to learn potions?"_ Severus asked him, making Harry shrug and glance at the tall man out of the corner of his eye.

"I suppose. You sure I don't need magic for that? Because well, that would be a bit pointless if you do."

_"I assure you that you don't need magic to make potions. Well, the basic potions. There are some that need some sort of magic to work, but the main ones can be made by anyone. Besides, your kind of magic may well work in the case of the potions that do need magic."_

"Right, well, maybe we can consider that at a later date. Now, I'm guessing we need like a chemistry lab or something," Harry said, pausing in his trek in case he was going in the opposite direction to said needed lab.

_"Something like that. We'll need a potions lab."_

"Ah, right. Guess I should ask El Dark Lord where it is then and if it's free, huh?" Harry asked, ignoring the scandalised looks he was getting from passing Death Eaters.

_"El Dark Lord? I thought you could speak various languages,_" Severus drawled, sneering at him then rolling his eyes when Harry just grinned at him.

"I do. Dead languages. You know, like Old English, Scots, Gallic and shit like that. Languages the dead people around me speak. I've never yet met a dead Mexican. But when I do, I'll make sure to ask them what Dark Lord is in their language. So, off to make Potions then? This should be fun! Ooh! Can we make explosions?"

_"If you're anything like your dunderheaded brother, then there's no doubt there'll be explosions,"_ Severus muttered, looking disturbed at the mere thought.

"Hmm… you know, we did have fun making things explode when we were kids. Yeah, that was fun. Right, Dark Lord! Potions!" Harry said and pushed away from the wall he was leaning on and headed back towards where he guessed the Dark Lord might be. "I'm guessing the library."

_"You could ask me."_

"You know? Right, where is he?"

_"With a few other Death Eaters in the second dining room on the ground floor,"_ Severus told him, walking towards the stairs. Harry just nodded and followed after him, excitedly thinking about making potions, something he'd never been able to do when he actually lived with wizards as he was considered too young. And a squib.

* * *

Marcus had been told by a very exasperated the Dark Lord that their Death speaking muggle was currently learning about potions, being taught, they all assumed - though Harry hadn't actually told them - by Severus Snape. After being told this, the Dark Lord had then order Marcus to go check that the potions lab was still there and Harry was still alive.

So Marcus was now heading towards the Potions lab, passing the occasional Death Eater muttering under their breath about insane muggles calling them crazy - Marcus just knew there was going to be an amusing story behind those mutters - and then came to a stop in front of the door to the lab.

It was only the knowledge that there was a silencing ward around the room that stopped Marcus from feeling nervous at the silence. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself for some sort of disaster and walked in the room.

"So… adding these when the cauldron is over the flame would be a bad idea, why?" Harry asked the room, holding what looked to be porcupine quills in his hand and a look on his face that told everyone witnessing it that he was just dying to put the quills in the cauldron now. Marcus couldn't help the flinch as he thought of the reaction. "Right, explosion… again though, why is that a bad thing?"

"Because it would cover you and you would then be covered in sore blisters," Marcus told him quickly, hoping that would be a good reason not to cause an explosion. Harry spun on the spot and smiled brightly when he saw him standing in the doorway, thankfully he placed the quills back on the desk and took the cauldron off of the flame. Which was coming from a strange cylinder style container that Marcus had never seen before.

"Marcus! How are you? Oh, and Severus wants me to tell you thank you and that er… huh… and that you can now teach me potions as he's realised apparently dead people can have high blood pressure. Hey! That's just not nice! And you can't bloody have high blood pressure! Don't go hiding off you wimp!" Harry shouted at the ceiling, before huffing and stomping his foot, then turning back to face Marcus, this time with a pout in place of the smile.

"Potions not going well then?'

"He called me a dunderheaded blithering idiot who wouldn't know the difference between aconite and wormwood! I thought they were the same bloody thing!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "And then he took points from Gryffindor! What the bloody fuck did he do that for?!"

"Er… Right. Well, Snape always was a little er… set in his ways. He takes potions quite seriously, so if you didn't show much talent in the subject, he'd not really have much patience with you."

"Who said I didn't show talent! I already brewed the forgetfulness potion, which is completely useless if you ask me. Just whack someone over the head or give them rohypnol if you want them to forget something. Don't bother faffing around for an hour and a half stirring this way and that and hoping to god you get it right. I mean, sure, both the other methods are technically illegal but… er… laws don't really seem to be your groups thing. Besides, it's only illegal in my world, the muggle world, so you wizards seem to think you are above those laws, so why not? Er… is there a reason you're here?" Harry finally asked, looking at Marcus as though only just realising he was actually there.

"Dark Lord sent me to make sure you hadn't blown the place up."

"Yes well, as you can see it's fine. Not that I didn't try! Severus really wasn't up for making cauldrons explode. Spoilsport," Harry muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and huffing.

"I've never yet met a potions master who liked explosions."

"Huh. Actually, I have. Well, sort of met. Well, spoke to. _Well_ he wasn't exactly a potions master. Or a wizard…" Harry trailed off and grinned sheepishly at the incredulous look Marcus was giving him.

"So, you haven't either?" Marcus asked him slowly, watching warily as Harry quickly cleaned everything away and then moved over to him.

"Technically no, but he did make potions and he did like explosions! Anyway, apparently there's a pissed off snake behind you and she er… wait, what?"

"What?" Marcus asked, slowly turning around and backing up a little when he saw Nagini hissing at him and sounding, as Harry said, a bit annoyed. He grabbed Harry and shoved the man behind him, well aware that the muggle apparently had absolutely no common sense.

"Oh! Right. Er… Marvolo - the actual Marvolo, not your Dark Lord - says that the snake is looking for food and er… her master said to look down here. Let's hope he didn't mean us, huh?" Harry said cheerfully, patting Marcus on the shoulder in what Marcus assumed he had meant as reassurance.

"You speak parseltongue?"

"Nope, but Marvolo does. Just make a mouse go poof!"

"Poof?"

"You know! Appear!"

"You can't conjure living creatures without a specific spell," Marcus told him dryly, mentally bemoaning having a conversation with someone who knew nothing about magic.

"Not what I've heard. But fine. Offer yourself up then because I don't want to die and you're useless at magic apparently!" Marcus' jaw dropped in shock and he spun around to stare at Harry in horror.

"Why the hell should I die?"

"Why should I? Besides, we're fine, the grumpy snake is moving on. Apparently she didn't like the scent of me… hey! What's wrong with my scent?!" Harry shouted out after the snake, making Marcus just sigh and roll his eyes.

"Stop bringing her attention to us. She's evil and will have no trouble killing either of us, and if we hurt her, we might as well kill ourselves before the Dark Lord finds us," Marcus hissed at him, yanking Harry away from the door and slamming it shut before Nagini could change her mind and come back to eat them.

"Why does he have a dangerous pet that eats people running lose in the house?" Harry asked after a moment or two, getting an incredulous look from Marcus.

"He's the Dark Lord, why does he need a reason?"

"Huh. True," Harry said with a shrug, before he suddenly turned his head to the side and pursed his lips. "Right, I think we need to go to the Dark Lord. Like, right now."

"Er… why?"

"I've just received some news from Abraxas that he would need to know. Oh, and someone called Valterri Flint says to just do as you're told and stop slouching so much, you look common," Harry added after a moments pause, smiling brightly when Marcus just gaped at him.

"You… spoke to my grandfather?"

"If he was called Valterri Flint, then yes, I did. Come on, let's go find your Dark Lord and tell him what I know."

* * *

Harry followed behind Marcus as they entered the room that Lord Voldemort was in, Harry nibbling on his lip and dreading the reaction he was going to get for his information.

_"There's not a lot he can do to you, dark magic doesn't exactly work the same on you, you know,"_ Ignotus told him soothingly, making Harry stumble and fall into Marcus' back, blushing and grinning when Marcus looked at him over his shoulder.

"Wait, what? Really?"

_"Yeah, didn't we tell you? Hmm, must have slipped our minds. In our defence, we didn't expect you to come face to face with possible dark magic this early in life."_

"Yeah? Well you all suck and should share this kind of shit with me," Harry stopped in what he was saying by an impatient cough grabbing his attention. He looked up to see Lord Voldemort and several masked Death Eaters all looking at him and Marcus expectantly. "Oh, right, hi!"

"You needed to see me, Mr Waterhouse?"

"Yes! Yes I did. Um… I have a message from Abraxas. Just… the people here, you trust them all implicitly, right?" Harry asked, nibbling on his bottom lip and praying he wasn't about to find out how dark magic reacted to his own magic, though noting that one of the Death Eaters seemed to perk up at the mention of Abraxas.

"This is my inner circle of followers, Mr Waterhouse. I trust these above any of my other followers. So do not worry about what you will be telling us leaving this room," Voldemort told him in his sibilant voice, making Harry restrain himself from shuddering a little.

"Right, well two things that are related. One, Abraxas said that you apparently have a spy. He heard that from someone called Orion? I dunno. Anyway, Orion then told Abraxas that the spy has told Dumbledick about me. Which totally sucks, by the way. I mean, really fucking sucks. But hey, I was hiding from the decrepit old fool anyway! The point is though, a) you have a spy and b) because of said spy, Dumbledore has decided they really need me on their side. Apparently me living here with you delightful people isn't enough of a hint to him that I'm not interested in his games," Harry told them, scowling at the mere thought of Dumbledore.

_"I did tell you he was a menace. He's been hankering after your cloak for as long as I can remember. Shame it seems to have disappeared, isn't it? Wonder where it went." _Harry rolled his eyes at Antioch's drawl and scoffed loudly.

"Whatever, like you don't know where it is. You're dead, you can certainly get into Gringotts without being caught. Now stop talking bollocks and tell me something useful," Harry snapped, ignoring the interested looks he was getting from Voldemort and the Death Eaters.

"That is not the first time you have mentioned Gringotts. How does a muggle know of our bank?" One of the Death Eaters asked, making Harry roll his eyes and look at Voldemort incredulously, which was admittedly a bit lost behind the glasses on his face.

"Really? This is your elite? Oh dear. The dead talk to me. Whether they've got magic or not. Hence me knowing this shit and talking about Abraxas and Orion. Because, even in the dark ages, those are not normal muggle names. Not saying they're bad, mind, just not muggle," Harry added hastily just in case he insulted one of the wand wielding powerful idiots in front of him.

"Yes, sometimes I wonder how they've made it this far as well," Voldemort drawled, sneering at the foolish Death Eater who spoke out. Harry grinned when the Death Eater then flinched and shrank back from Voldemort. "Now, do you know what Dumbledore plans to do?'

"Orion seems to think they'll currently just be scoping out Little Hangleton, which totally sucks because it means thats another week at least going by where my bakery is shut. Do you know how much money I'm losing?"

_"Why are you whining about money? You'll never be poor. You know where all the hidden treasure and riches are in Britain. Probably the world if you travelled a bit. So stop whining and giving the man a reason to curse you! Neutral and light magic still affects you normally!" _

"Shh, Dark Lord meeting in progress. Quiet time now from those without a pulse," Harry snapped suddenly, glancing at Marcus when he snorted in amusement, looking just as shocked that he'd done it as Harry was.

"As you asked for my protection from Dumbledore, I cannot allow you to reopen your bakery yet. Stop whining before I get annoyed and forget about your safety and comfort," Voldemort told him mildly, which was a touch more menacing than it would have been if he'd yelled it.

"Right. No on the whining then. Okay. Got you. By the way…"

"No."

"I didn't even ask! You didn't give me a chance! Christ, you're like the dead! They never let you get a word in edgeways either! And don't even get me started on talking to dead seers! They're nothing but trouble! Having someone answer your question before you even thought it is just off-putting," Harry ranted, before stopping and swallowing heavily at the look Voldemort was sending him.

"You can speak to seers? And they still know of the future?"

"Er… well, yeah. Not right now, mind because no seer has died near enough and none of your followers are connected close enough to a dead seer," Harry admitted with a shrug, snickering when Antioch drawled about how surprising that was given how inbred they all were.

"What do you mean close enough?" A Death Eater asked, one that was actually female going by her voice and possibly more insane than he was if you went by the manic glint in her eyes visible through her mask.

"Oh right, well, I can hear those that have died within twenty-five miles of here, but I can also hear those that are related to me and those related to anyone close to me. Though, I mean directly, like your name has to have been directly connected to theirs somehow on your family tree. So I can't hear second cousins or anything. Just parents, grandparents and so on. If you're in the same house as me, then chances are I can talk to your dead relatives," Harry told them with a shrug, grinning suddenly when a few shifted uncomfortably.

"Any dead relative?" Another Death Eater asked, moving forward a little to stand next to the crazy lady one.

"Yep, as long as there is a direct link from you to them on your family tree. Well, unless you killed them, then they might hunt me down to talk to anyway. And by talk I mean bitch, whine, moan and generally be annoying. So, hold off on killing relatives, yeah?"

_"Too bloody late for that! My own bloody son killed me!" _

"To be fair, you did abandon him," Harry said, not noticing the sharp look Voldemort sent him.

_"His bloody mother jinxed me into loving her! Did you ever see her?! Did you?!"_

"Guess it's a good job he got your looks then. Right! I've told you what I know, so I'm going to head to the library, I guess. Um…"

"Yes?" Voldemort drawled, looking a little murderous for reasons Harry couldn't quite fathom.

"If I say what I've just been told, can you promise not to curse me?"

"They promise."

"Right. Um… Orlav said Antonin has been forgetting his roots and now his Russian is shit. That's all! Bye now!" Harry said quickly, running from the room before the Death Eater called Antonin could get over his shock and curse Harry regardless of the promise his Lord had made. "You really are going to get me shot."

_"Unlikely. I doubt any of them would even know which way to point a gun, never mind how to fire it,"_ Frank said dryly, getting a snicker from Harry even as he darted into the library. Harry glanced around the room quickly and gave a relieved smile when he saw no one. _"If you want to get into the room without anyone knowing about it, you had better move. That Marcus lad is quickly making his way here."_

"Right," Harry said with a nod, before darting down the right aisle of books and coming to a stop in front of a blank wall. Leaning his back against it, he slammed the wall with his fist, grinned when he heard a click and then shoved back. The wall gave a slight sigh as it shifted back an inch and then slid away slowly to reveal and small square space, just big enough to hold a comfortable chair, small desk and a few shelves on the wall for books.

Harry quickly stepped into the room, turning to push the wall back into place behind him and smiling when it shut. He was so thankful that he had managed to keep this room hidden from the wizards so far. It was quite nice knowing that there was somewhere he could go to be alone if he wanted. Well, alone in terms of the living.

"So how are things with my family?" Harry asked, once he'd sat down and asked Frank to keep an eye out for anyone coming close to discovering him.

_"Your brother is constantly struggling with the strain of everyone's expectations. Your mother is no longer really talking to your father and is trying her hardest to find ways to get your brother out of the war, your father is still stuck up Dumbledore's arse and your little sisters are fine, they finally graduated from Hogwarts last month, and your mother has told them to go travelling around the world for a bit before settling down,"_ Sylv told him, making Harry smile a little, happy that his mum was trying to protect the rest of his siblings.

"Are Dahlia and Rose going to take her advice? Please tell me they will."

_"They are. Your mum placed a substantial amount of money into each of their vaults that should last them for at least six months. I believe they are going with a couple of friends. I don't know where they're thinking of going first though." _

"Okay, think Aunt Dorea and Uncle Charlus will be happy to watch over them and let me know if they're in trouble during their trip?" Harry asked, looking to Ignotus for an answer this time.

_"They have been watching over them since you asked them ten years ago, I do not see why they would stop now. John and Elizabeth Potter are, of course, watching over Charlus." _

"What about Tel?"

_"You know he is still with your brother. Now, what are you plans now Dumbledore knows for sure that you are here? It won't be long before Voldemort finds out you're a Potter, then what?"_

"But I'm not!" Harry whined, huffing and crossing his arms over his chest, only just stopping himself from stomping his feet.

_"By birth, you are. Just because you took up the name Peverell, does not mean you aren't related to the Potters. You have been taking steps to watch over and protect your siblings since you were six. What will happen if he finds out about it? I can tell you that he won't be impressed," _Cadmus told him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at Harry's small hissy fit.

"True. I don't know! I don't want to fight in this stupid war! Neither does he! It's all fucking Dumbledore's fault! Once he's gone, then he can finally be bloody free, can't he? And I can finally see them!"

_"Your sisters think you're dead."_

"Well, as it has been said before, reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated."

_"We need to plan. And you need to do another ritual."_

"Why? I don't need another bead yet."

_"You need to make some proper casting bones. For that you will need to gather the knuckles of various people. I will tell you where I am rested so you can get mine," _Ignotus told him, making Harry gape at him before he smiled brightly.

"Really? I get to make them finally?"

_"Yes, you are not quite a master just yet, but we all felt it was time. He is impressed with how you have developed. Your newest bead is just one sign."_

"Still, you're going to let me use some of your knuckles? Yours?!" Harry asked, stunned and a little in awe at the thought.

_"Yes, we'll ask around for anyone else who will offer their bones for you. You will need to bathe before it though. And don't forget that even though Lughnasadh has passed and you missed that, you still should celebrate Mabon." _

"Er… it's the beginning of August. We have a good month before Mabon. No need to worry about that yet. Who knows what will happen before then with the Dumbledore thing."

_"He has a point, you know. Now, given I died only two years ago, you obviously can't use my bones, but I will tell you where your great-grandfather is buried. We'll have to get his bones late at night, but I suppose the same could be said for all," _Sylvia pointed out, making Harry grin at her whilst Ignotus just rolled his eyes at the two.

_"Well, we have ten days until the full moon in order to get permission and volunteers, so to speak. We will work on it on our end. You just need to make sure you stay alive that long."_

"Right, ten days. So how come I haven't bumped into any werewolves yet, you'd think I would have by now."

_"Probably a good thing that you haven't. Since your seventeenth birthday, you will now smell of death to them. That would bring up some questions you don't want to answer." _

_"Sorry to interrupt, laddy, but a group of young men just walked into the library. Thought I'd let you know as they will probably hear you talking if they come down the aisle outside."_

"Ah, thanks, Frank. Guess I should do a bit of reading, huh? Because I can guess just who is outside in the library now and I really don't want to face him."

_"Probably the best idea. Read that book on runes you found the other day, the one in Gaelic. That should be interesting and may be useful," _Antioch told him, motioning for the book he was talking about in the small pile on the desk. Harry just nodded, already able to hear loud voices outside - apparently wizards didn't know you were quiet in libraries - and picked up the book in question. Though his excitement about the upcoming ritual just made it harder to concentrate on a language he wasn't all that great at reading in the first place.

* * *

**A/N - Hmm, quite a short chapter I'm afraid, sorry, just thought this was the best place to end this. Still, a little more about what Harry can do has been answered and if you were wondering, Harry is only pagan in the sense that he follows a religion that not many others do (in fact, he's currently the only one). Necromancy, as well as being his species, is also his religion in a way. Death is his God. It just so happens that all those pagan holidays happen on magically powerful nights of the year. He doesn't celebrate them all, and he doesn't celebrate them in the traditional way for those that are savvy on what people do on those days.**

**You also got to hear more about his family. Harry's feelings about his brother are mixed. He loves him and wants to protect him, but when he was younger he blindly followed Dumbledore like his father, so Harry resented that a little. Now Charlus is older however, and Lily is whispering things in his ear and showing him the truth of how he's been manipulated.**

**If anyone was wondering, there is a difference between a cemetery and a graveyard. Not that anyone has brought it up. Just thought it was an interesting little fact. I should add more of these things. See how many people actually read the authors notes. *Grins* Maybe a blatantly made up 'fact' or factoid (apparently actually means a fact that is wrong and therefore not a fact) to see if I get any indignant reviews about how I talk absolute bollocks… Two facts in this chapter. Three if you count the one about the dictionary definition of a pagan being someone who follows a god/religion that is not one of the main world religions. Paganism isn't one religion. Sorry to burst so many bubbles there. *Snickers***


	8. Chapter 7

**Please stop reviewing just to say this should be Tom(Voldemort)/Harry. It's not going to happen. They'd end up killing each other. You know they would. *snickers***

**On a different note, this is my favourite chapter so far… Oh, and I guess you could say this ends on something of a cliffhanger. Of course, you could also say it doesn't. Totally up to you. ;D **

Chapter Seven

Harry did, much to the surprise of many, manage to survive for the next ten days, and so when it came to the twenty-second day of August - the day there would be a full moon - Harry was sitting in the library, not his secret cubby hole, reading a random book about potions ingredients as recommended by Marcus, and trying his hardest not to fidget in his seat and garner Marcus' attention.

_"It's time. You need to go cleanse."_ Harry jumped a little when he heard Ignotus speak, before he closed his book - not bothering saving the page as he hadn't really taken any of it in anyway - and standing up.

"Going somewhere?"

"I need to bathe."

"Pardon?" Marcus asked him, looking as though he wasn't sure he'd heard right.

"I need to bathe."

"Right. Thought you said that. Er… it's only seven in the evening. Surely it's a bit early for a bath," Marcus pointed out, looking out of the window to see a bright sky.

"Not if I want time. I'm going to be away for a while. Tell your master that he's going to have to wait for me to get back if he needs me for anything, and not to worry, I'll be perfectly safe," Harry said with a small nod, hoping he'd left no room for argument.

"Wait a minute!" Apparently there was room for argument. Harry sighed and paused by the door, looking at Marcus questioningly. "One, he's my Lord, not my master and two, you can't leave! You're here hiding from Dumbledore! What if he gets you when you leave?"

"I don't think Dumbledore is one to sit around in a town centre and hope his victim passes by. In fact, the dead have told me he's currently eating lemon drops of all things in his office. Now, excuse me, I have to bathe! Oh and er… could you give me a head start? You know, like tell your Lord in about an hour. Please?" Harry asked, realising that it would be awkward to have the Dark Lord burst into your bathroom whilst you're having a bath.

"How do you know you'll be safe?"

"Because I do! It's the night of the full moon! The dead are super sensitive tonight so they're even more aware of Dumbledore's actions, so in turn, I am too! Trust me on this, I'll know the second Dumbledore thinks about tracking me down. Hell, I'll know before he thinks of it because I'll get a seer to keep an eye on him. Happy?"

"Why don't you do this permanently instead of relying on the Dark Lord?"

"It's wearing. The dead actually do need rest, hence the rest in peace schtick. And it wears me down as well. I can't constantly be alert. However, for one night, I can be. Please, Marcus. I won't ask anything else of you, just this. Please?" Harry asked, fully aware he was begging though his glasses totally hindered his puppy-dog eyes.

Marcus just stared at him with narrowed eyes before he sigh and slumped in his chair. "Fine, but if he finds out before the hour is up and catches you, I don't want to be involved."

"Promise! I won't mention you at all should I be caught! Cheers!" Harry called out before running out of the library and to his room. "We've got until three in the morning, right?"

_"Yes, that is the time to link them to you. Now, you need to bathe for twenty-seven minutes. Don't forget to put the salt in the water this time."_

"Yeah yeah, man you forget the salt one time and no one ever lets you forget. I should add hyssop as well, right?" Harry asked as he entered his room and made his way to his en suite.

_"Yes, you will need to hold your breath for the last three minutes and submerge all of your body in the water. I will let you know when it is time,"_ Ignotus told him. Harry just nodded as he started to run the bath, thankful that it was possibly the most indulgent bath he'd ever seen and he could possibly swim in it if he put his mind to it, at the very least he could comfortably submerge his entire body in the water. As it was filling with barely tolerable hot water, Harry added what he felt was almost his body weight in salt - it wasn't, but Harry liked to whine when he could - and a few drops of hyssop oil. He then quickly stripped - when you've grown up talking to dead bodies, you didn't tend to feel shy in their presence - lit a few candles, two white for spiritual enlightenment and cleansing, and one silver/grey to enhance his psychic ability. Well, he was pretty sure talking to dead seers wasn't technically his own psychic ability, but he'd learnt about this ritual years ago and Antioch had been insistent on using that colour candle.

When everything was in order, Harry stepped into the bath, hissing at the heat and mentally praying that he didn't pass out again when he left the bath, he submerged himself in the fragrant water until only his head was out of the water and then just relaxed and closed his eyes.

Harry was almost asleep in the bath by the time Ignotus got his attention once more, _"It is time to submerge your head as well, Horatio." _

"Wha? Oh, right, okay. See you in three minutes," Harry said, blinking a couple of time before taking a deep breath and ducking his head under the water. He had found it a little weird at first, when he was fourteen and the Peverell brothers all insisted that he learn to hold his breath for as long as he could. Now it totally made sense and by the time the second minute passed - he was mentally counting - he was regretting not keeping up with the practice as his lungs were screaming at him to breathe.

_"You can come up now, Horatio!" _Harry launched himself out of the water, gasping at air and near hyperventilating he was so desperate for air.

"Oh Christ. Okay, I get it, practice more. No need to look so damned smug," Harry finally managed to gasp out, glaring at the smug spirit.

_"Maybe now you'll listen to us. You'll find cleansing baths will become much more common now. Right enough whining from you, get dressed in well fitting clothing and you'll need to braid two plaits either side of your face, then you'll need your agate, lapis and garnet knives. Bring along a couple of diamonds, some hematite, amethyst and obsidian as well, can't hurt to have them. Oh, and some mugwort to burn as well. Oh yes, and don't forget the white campanulas as your offering. I will curse you if you don't leave me some." _

"Sheesh, alright. We'll need to stop by my greenhouse for the campanula. I didn't think to grab any offerings when I ran. It should be safe, right? Dumbledick only warded my house, didn't he?"

_"It'll be safe as long as you climb over your fence and don't touch your house in anyway. Now, lets get going. It's going to be a long and exhausting night._"

* * *

Marcus waited the hour that Harry had asked for before he promptly snapped his book shut, placed it on the coffee table in the middle of the circle of seats he was sitting on and stood up, walking at a brisk pace to leave the library and towards where he sensed his Lord through the mark.

He came to a stop in front of the doors to the smaller meeting room, which meant that the Dark Lord was possibly in a meeting or had just finished one. Either way, Marcus knew he would be punished more if the Dark Lord found Harry was missing and that he knew. Hopefully the Dark Lord would think Harry had only just left and that Marcus hadn't waited an hour.

He knocked on the door before entering the room, barely withholding a flinch when he saw the Dark Lord looking at him expectantly with four inner circle members standing in front of him, also looking his way.

"Yes?"

"Sorry to interrupt, My Lord, but I thought you should know that Harry has left the manor. He wouldn't tell me why and wouldn't let me stop him. He seemed excited though and was adamant that he could hide from Dumbledore."

"He left? That blasted muggle! Why does the boy not listen to me! Marcus, as soon as he gets back, bring him to me! Clearly I've been too lenient with him."

"Yes, My Lord," Marcus said, cringing inside at what possible punishment Harry was going to get and regretting having to tell on him in the first place.

"Oh, and Marcus?" Marcus looked up at the Dark Lord at the dangerously quiet words and swallowed heavily when he saw the murderous look on the man's face. "_Crucio!_"

* * *

Harry quickly closed the gateway behind him that he'd stumbled through, using the same headstone he had used to go to Byland Abbey, and looked around him, eyes wide as he took in Godrics Hollow for the first time that he could remember, even though he knew he'd lived there for his first year of life.

"Whoa, this is Godrics Hollow? I can feel the ambient magic and Death."

_"Well, I did live here all my life, and Cadmus and Antioch stayed with me for a long while. Our magic would have pretty much saturated the small village. Now, you'll want to head into the cemetery, follow me and I'll take you to my grave,"_ Ignotus told him, stepping in front of him and walking over to a small, but well-kept and peaceful looking cemetery. They walked through past several headstones, Harry absently taking note of the names and recognising one or two of people he'd spoken to in the past. He smiled when he felt wave after wave of spiritual magic wash over him gently and then looked to the side at the headstone Ignotus was looking at sadly.

"That's your wife?"

_"Yes, Maura, she was a beautiful woman."_

"I've never spoken to her."

_"No, you haven't. She's too far back in your family tree for you to really be able to contact without sitting here for a while. Sadly we don't have the time tonight. She is very proud of you though, even more so when you learnt Irish. That was her native tongue," _Ignotus said, smiling sadly as he reached out to touch the headstone, only for his hand to pass through it. Harry winced at the sad sight and reached over to place his hand on Ignotus' shoulder, channeling energy through him to make him more solid. Ignotus smiled at him and brushed his hand over Maura's headstone. _"Thank you, Horatio._"

"No problem, Grandfather. We'll come back here soon, yeah? Have a proper family reunion."

_"Good idea. Now, you need to kneel by my grave and concentrate on bringing the knuckles to the surface. They should heed your call because I am willingly giving them to you,"_ Ignotus told him.

Harry just nodded and moved away from Maura's grave to kneel in front of Ignotus'. He placed his hand on the ground, digging his hands in the grass that had grown over his favourite uncle's resting place and then concentrated as hard as he could on the bones he would need and why he needed them. He inhaled sharply when he felt his energy leave him, to be greeted by the familiar feel of Ignotus' spiritual energy, practically curling and wrapping around him like a hug. Then, as soon as it came, the feeling left him and he felt something solid under his hands.

Leaning back onto the balls of his feet, Harry lifted his hands and smiled brightly at the sight of the slightly dirty, small bones. He tenderly picked them up and placed them in the ancient dragon hide bag that he'd had the goblins take out of his vault - which was technically a Peverell vault but now his as he had the key - and send to him.

"Thank you, Grandfather. You know, if you want to stay with Maura, I'm sure Cadmus and Antioch will be able to lead me through the rest of this," Harry offered as he reverently placed a couple of white campanulas on Ignotus' grave and then leant over and placed a couple more on Maura's.

_"You are most welcome, Horatio. And no, I wish to see you complete this ritual. It is a big stepping-stone and I wouldn't miss it for the world. However, I may stay with Maura for a little while afterwards."_

"That's good then. She probably misses you as much as you miss her. You haven't really left my side since Voldemort arrived back in Little Hangleton."

_"You're my many times great grandson and almost like my son, I will not leave you alone with that man until I know for certain that you are safe. Now, have you rested enough? We really should get a move on. It is dangerous enough that we have to do this when it is still light."_

"The sun will be setting soon enough, don't worry. We'll leave great-grandfather Roberts until last though, when we know it's definitely dark."

_"Yes, probably for the best. Next it would be best if we went to a wizarding cemetery in Berlin. That is where Agrippa's resting place is. Use my headstone as the next gate."_

"I can't believe I'm going to be using the bones of Agrippa," Harry muttered under his breath as he quickly drew out his next gate, concentrating on the information he had for his next destination. He smiled brightly when it worked and he quickly stepped through, Ignotus following behind him, then Harry closed the gate behind them.

_"Took your time coming to visit me, didn't you?" _Harry didn't even have to concentrate for a strange looking spirit to appear in front him at the slightly accented gallic being spoke.

"Ignotus came first. You must be Agrippa. Thank you for allowing me to use some of your bones," Harry said back in gallic, dipping his head a little and smiling when Agrippa just waved him away.

_"No need for thanks. I'm quite honoured that the Ignotus Peverell listened to me when I offered my bones to his newest apprentice and the first necromancer in centuries. Now, follow me and I'll take you to my grave. It's unmarked for some reason, but don't worry, our own grave is something we find hard to lose,"_ Agrippa told him with a full belly-laugh that made Harry chuckle as well, even though he wasn't entirely sure what was supposed to be amusing. Harry just grinned at the jolly man leading him through the many ancient tombs and graves before he came to a stop in front of a fairly unremarkable grave that many would be shocked held the remains of Cornelius Agrippa.

Harry smiled brightly at Agrippa once again before he knelt down in front of the grave and repeated the same process he had done with Ignotus'. He gave another gasp when he once again felt spiritual energy embracing his own, only this time he wasn't familiar with it though it seemed to feel just as strange, large and jolly as the man it belonged to was. It took a little longer this time for the energy to leave him and to feel a few finger bones under his hand, but it was expected as this was the first time Harry had ever tried to contact Agrippa. Though now he had the man's bones, he would be able to speak to him whenever they wanted no matter where Harry was in relation to Agrippa's grave.

Harry leant back once he felt the bones and added the two that were on the ground in front of him to the five he'd received from Ignotus in the small pouch and then left a handful of white campanulas by the headstone.

"Thank you again, Agrippa."

_"It's no trouble, tiny necromancer! It is a pleasure and a joy to know you will be using my remains in your gracious magic! Your Master and Lord has seen to bless you, so I feel blessed you would use my bones! Now, you had better leave here as you no doubt have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in,"_ Agrippa told him with a large, wide smile, patting him on the shoulder heavily and making Harry practically collapse back to the ground he'd just stood up from.

"May I use your headstone for my next gate?"

_"Of course! Would you mind if I watched? It has been so long since I have witnessed your type of magic!"_

"Sure, oh and don't worry, when I close the gate, my blood will be absorbed into the stone and the chalk should wash away with the next rainfall," Harry assured him, before he bent and created his next gate, this time thinking of his next destination, which was in Northampton. Once the gate opened, Harry turned to smile at a mesmerised Agrippa and then stepped through, Ignotus once more following him. Harry closed the gate behind him and then bent over a little to try and regain some energy.

_"Just rest for a moment. Cassandra will be here soon, but she won't mind waiting for you to get some energy back. You haven't had to do this many gates and rituals in one go before. Don't worry, this is normal," _Ignotus reassured him, resting his translucent hand on Harry's shoulder.

After a few minutes of just resting there, Harry finally straightened up, smiling when he saw one of his childhood mentors, Cassandra Trelawney, standing in front of him and smiling brightly.

_"Ah, little Harry. How I've missed talking to you. It does get so lonely without someone alive to talk to. I have been keeping an eye on you though. Your future looks so happy!" _Cassandra told him, motioning to hug him - always a strange experience with a spirit. Harry just smiled and concentrated on her so that he didn't fall through her when they hugged.

"Good to see you too, Cass! Thank you for this!"

_"The Peverell's asked me first, they knew I wouldn't say no to you! Now, follow me and I'll take you to my grave. You're lucky that my great-great-granddaughter is at Hogwarts now. She tends to like to visit my grave in the summer and forgets the time when she's here. Such a strange girl. Got some of my talent, but it's sketchy and prone to misinterpretation. I'm sad to say it was her talent that sent the Dark Lord towards your family,"_ Cass told him, leading him through the many headstones of long gone wizards and witches before she came to a stop in front of a well cared for headstone, covered in many brightly coloured flowers of different kinds.

"You're sure this is okay? I mean, you still have living relatives, what if one of them has a child that is a necromancer? They won't be able to use your bones as well."

_"Harry, Sybil is my only descendent and I don't see her having any children anytime soon. Besides, even if she did, it is highly unlikely that her children will be a necromancer. There is no necromancer blood in my family. My blood tends to produce seers. A different magic. Now, do what you must and stop questioning me."_

Harry just looked at her and then nodded, kneeling in front of the grave and concentrating on Cassandra's remains buried deep in the earth, just as he did with Agrippa and Ignotus. He quickly felt the wise and ancient feel energy that he recognised as Cassandra wrap itself around him and then tug at him before he felt a few bones underneath his hands. He pulled back and plucked the three finger bones and one knuckle that was there and placed them into the pouch with the others. Then he placed some more campanula's on the grave along with a small bunch of freesias that he'd picked just for Cassandra, as they were her favourite flower but also were a flower for friendship.

"You can talk to me wherever now, you know!" Harry told her happily once he'd stood up and was happy to embrace Cassandra again, not realising just how much he'd missed her presence.

_"I know. That is another reason I allowed you to use my bones. Mostly though, the bones of a seer will guide you better for future endeavours. Now, then, you've got one more grave to visit, I believe, so you had better get a move on,"_ Cassandra told him, releasing him from their hug and moving back so that Harry could go back to her headstone. _"The chalk will have washed away by the time Sybil comes back to visit my grave,_"Cassandra added when she saw Harry hesitate in front of her headstone.

"Right, okay then," Harry muttered, nodding his head before he started drawing out his next gate, this time to a cemetery he'd been to before a couple of times. Normally in November though. Ford Park Cemetery in Plymouth held the body of his great-grandfather, Lieutenant Dennis Roberts. Harry sent one last smile to Cassandra before he stepped through the gate and closed it behind himself and Ignotus.

When he straightened up and looked around him, not far from his great-grandfathers grave where he'd aimed for, he saw a proud looking man with a thick beard and short slightly wavy hair in an old Lieutenants Royal Navy uniform, standing up straight-backed in front of him.

"Lieutenant Roberts!" Harry said, giving a slightly weak salute, but the man had demanded one every time he and his aunt had come to visit.

_"Horatio, good to see you again and in good health. My granddaughter told me you were in need of some of my bones. Strange request, but no stranger than meeting your eleven year old living great-grandson a good thirty years after you'd died. Come, we'll walk to my grave. How have you been this past year? The tales I have been hearing from the dead are not encouraging."_

"Oh, you know… Living with a Dark Lord who hates people with no magic and tried to kill your brother when you were a year old, had to close the bakery so Aunty Sylv isn't best pleased with me, oh and I recently found out that Death is taking even more of an interest in my life than is usual. So, really, pretty boring," Harry added with a grin, laughing when his ancestor chuckled.

_"Yes, it does sound terribly dull. Now, I've been informed that me allowing you to use my bones means that I'll be able to actually talk to you and keep an eye on you no matter where you are, is that right?"_

"Yep, totally right," Harry told him as they came to a stop in front of his great-grandfathers grave, Harry glanced at the proud man, who gave a small nod, and then knelt in front of the man's grave. Once again he did the same as he had with the previous graves. Once he felt the familiar energy of his great-grandfather greet him and offer up his bones, he smiled at how quick he was at doing this - shame he probably wouldn't need to do it again - and picked up the bones he had been given before placing them in the pouch with the others and replacing them with a few campanulas, "thank you for this."

_"No need for thanks, now, you two should probably head back to wherever it is that you need to go," _Harry's great-grandfather told them, waving him towards his headstone with a smile. _"I'll come visit you when you have a bit more energy."_

"Okay! See you later then, Lieutenant!" Harry told him with a brisk salute before he drew the next gate, and his last for a little while, and then stepped through with Ignotus, grinning when he was greeted on the other side by Cadmus, Antioch and a broad-shouldered, rugged looking man dressed in a dark green tartan kilt.

_"Ah, Death's Favoured has come back. We are honoured you chose to use our grounds for this ritual once more. I am James of the Gordon Clan_," the man told him with a small tilt of the head. Harry nodded back and smiled at him.

"I've successfully performed a ritual here before and had better than great results, so of course I'm going to come back! I feel a link to here now," Harry told them with a bright smile, throwing his arms wide when the light of the full moon shone through the scars clouds in the sky and lit him and the battleground he was standing on up, filling him with a touch more energy. "I can feel all the deaths that happened here."

_"As you perform more and more rituals, the closer and closer you will become to Death and all his subjects. Come, we should start preparing. We have just enough time to do so before three,"_ Antioch told him, stepping forward and placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Right, okay," Harry said, quickly turning to close the gate he and Ignotus had arrived through and then moving to where he sensed lingering energy from his last ritual here. He knelt down there and opened his bag, pulling out the remaining campanulas, as well as a few thistles and white roses, then stood up and scattered the flowers around him. Once that was done, he knelt once more and took out three knives, the various stones Ignotus had advised he bring, the sprigs of mugwort he had brought with him and a lighter.

Arranging the diamonds, hematite, amethyst and obsidian stones on the ground on front of him in a neat pile and then lining the knives up in the order he would be using them next to the stones. On the other side of the stone pile, he reverently placed the pouch with the bones he had collected in.

_"Wee Necromancer?"_

"Hmm?" Harry asked absently, concentrating on what he would have to do in thirty minutes time and what he had to do before then.

_"We wish to offer our energy for your ritual once more and also, I would like to offer some bones." _Harry turned to gape at the spirit of James in shock.

"Really?

_"Aye. If you'll follow me, then I'll take you to where I fell fighting for the Bruce," _James told him, turning to lead him a small distance away from where Harry had been kneeling once Harry had stood up to follow. _"It would honour me if you would use my bones for your collection."_

"Wow. It's an honour for me to be allowed this," Harry told him with a bright smile, before he knelt and quickly performed the ritual he was now a dab-hand at, grinning when he felt James' energy embrace his and give up the bones he asked for. Harry carefully picked the two tiny bones up and then stood, bowed to James in thanks and hurried back to his knives.

Kneeling once more, Harry placed the bones into the pouch with the others he had and then picked up the mugwort and lighter before lighting the herb and slowly waving it around him and over his tools and bones. He then scattered the last tips of the mugwort around him, allowing it to burn out and bowed his head, closing his eyes and picking up the pouch.

With his eyes still closed, he tipped the pouch and shook out one of the bones, smiling when he sensed the energy of Cassandra. He then opened his eyes and picked up the Lapis knife and nicked the bone with it before cutting his left thumb and rubbing the blood into the nick. He did this with the rest of the bones Cassandra had given him before placing them all on the ground on front of him and putting the knife back where he'd picked it up from.

"Bone of the Diviner, may you guide me to a future Our Lord deems right."

A wave of power and energy ran through him, making him bite his lip to hold back a groan of pleasure, before it left him and he had to take a deep breath to ground himself again. He then closed his eyes once more and tipped the pouch again until another bone fell out into his hand. He grinned as he felt the energy of James. He opened his eyes and looked at the bone, before this time picking up the agate knife and nicking the bone as he did with Cassandra's. This time he cut his thumb on his other hand and rubbed the blood into the nick. He repeated this process with the other bone of James and then placed them both next to Cassandra's, and put the knife back.

"Bone of the Warrior, may you give courage to fight in Our Lord's battles."

Once again, a wave of power and energy ran through him, this time a little stronger and leaving him breathless as it passed through him. He slumped a little when it left him and he had to take a couple of breaths to centre himself. Then he repeated the gesture with the pouch again, this time getting the bones of Agrippa. He smiled at the feel of the man's vibrant, dark energy before picking up the lapis knife and nicking the bone, cutting his right ring finger and smearing the blood on the nick, then repeating the process with the other bone and placing them and the knife on the ground.

"Bone of the scholar, may you gift me with the knowledge to aide Our Lord."

This time he was ready for the wave of power and energy that washed over him and he managed to pull himself together quicker than he had the previous two times. Picking up the pouch again, he shook out the next bone, feeling his great-grandfathers energy in it and smiling. He picked up the agate knife again, nicked the bone and cut his left forefinger and rubbing his blood into the nick he'd made on the bone. He then did the same with the remaining bones of his great-grandfather and placed them on the ground along with the knife.

"Bone of the Leader, may you lead me to where I will best help Our Lord."

The energy that rushed through him this time was even stronger than the previous three and left Harry breathless and gasping, fingers digging into the grass he was kneeling on. He slumped a little and took deep breaths, trying to stop the minute shakes he could feel racking his body, before he pushed himself up straight again and picked up the pouch, tipping out the remaining bones of Ignotus onto his hand. This time he picked up the garnet knife and sliced alone his left right palm after nicking all the bones, then he placed the bones into his palm and closed his fingers around them, feeling his blood flowing over them and leaking out between his fingers. He opened his hand when he felt they would be sufficiently covered in his blood and placed them on the ground, along with the knife and took a deep breath, closing his eyes once more.

"Bone of the Mentor, may you teach me what I will need to please Our Lord and guide me in His ways."

With that last sentence, Harry couldn't hold back the moan at the power and energy that rushed through him, leaving his fingertips and toes tingling, knocking the breath out of him and leaving him light-headed. He vaguely felt his hair being tugged at as he slumped forward over the piles of bones, mouth open in a silent shout of pleasure, back arching as he weakly propped himself up on his shaky arms. Then the energy left him, leaving him breathless once more and any remaining energy he had in his arms left him, leaving him to drop to the floor, just missing his knives.

_"Horatio?"_ Harry groaned when he heard Ignotus calling his name a few minutes later, and he weakly pushed himself up until he was sitting, whole body tingling and limbs feeling like jelly.

"Did it work?"

_"Oh yes, it definitely worked. He gifted you with more beads as well,"_ Antioch told him, pride evident in his voice. Harry blinked at the four spirits standing in front of him blearily and then glanced down to see only five clean white bones left on the floor with inky black runes on them and a blood red nick on them all. He beamed happily down at them and shakily picked them up before placing them into his pouch.

"Wait, he gave me more beads?" Harry asked a minute or two later when Antioch's words penetrated his brain. Lifting a weak hand up, he felt at his hair and noticed the two thin braids at the side of his face now had a small bead at the end of each, both looking like they were made of bone but with veins of colour going through them. The bead on his left had emerald veins and the right had ruby. "What does that mean?"

_"That you really are favoured by Our Lord,"_ Ignotus told him, Harry glancing up at him and smiling when he saw the wide, proud smile on his mentor's face. _"You have made us very proud that you carry our name and blood." _

_"It has been an honour to witness and be a part of this. I will gladly visit with you from now on, though I think you should be heading back to your home before your energy leaves you completely. We cannot protect you here, out in the open,"_ James told him, placing a hand on his shoulder and smiling at him before he let go of the energy Harry was giving him and he disappeared.

_"He is right. You need to head back. Voldemort was not best pleased that you had left and I feel your confrontation with him will mean him finding out some things you had been hiding from him. Just remember, Our Lord is clearly watching over you now, He'll keep you safe. Now, pack up your things and we'll go back to face Lord Voldemort's anger."_

* * *

**A/N - So, a bit of insight into the relationship between Harry and Ignotus. Harry's close with all three Peverell brothers, but Ignotus is the brother that the Potter line came from, so he has basically been there for Harry for everything and is the more prominent of his mentors. He really does see Harry as his son, Cadmus and Antioch probably see him as their nephew, which technically he sort of is. Also, Potter Manor is never mentioned in canon, as far as canon is aware, Godrics Hollow is the only Potter property (I think). Therefore, Potter Manor is totally in Northampton, as well as Cassandra Trelawney's resting place. Amusingly, if you know anything about certain sports and venues, then you can totally tell what sports I've been watching as I have been writing this. *Snickers***

**Ford Park Cemetery does exist, many men of the military are buried there. There is also a Gordon Clan. That is the clan I am a part of. :) **

**Let me know what you think! Next chapter has the much anticipated meeting between Harry and Draco, as well as Voldemort's punishment for Harry. Let's just say there's going to be another couple of secrets about Harry revealed in them. And yes, I shamelessly channel my hatred of Draco Malfoy through Harry. *Grins* **

**Oh! Before I forget: **

**Lapis Lazuli - **Deep Wisdom, Intuition, connection with the divine**  
****Agate - **Strength and Courage.**  
****Amethyst - **Spirituality**  
****Obisidian - **Scrying, Intuition**  
****Diamond - **Purifies, Scrying, Intuition, Meditation**  
****Hematite - **Grounding, Clarifies thought, Willpower, Confidence.**  
****Ruby - **Courage, Vigour

**Thistle - **Scotland's national flower. It also means bravery, courage and loyalty.**  
****White Rose - **the Rose is England's national flower, the white rose is the flower of Yorkshire (well, technically the House of York, but the God's Own Country seems to have adopted it as their own) more specifically. It also means truth.**  
****Campanula - **Give thanks.**  
****Mugwort - **Clairvoyance, Psychic Dreams, Protection

**Fact of the week: Thistles don't die, they just dry out… like most Scots then! XD Also, a fact that doesn't mean anything to anyone but me, but apparently it's fecking impossible to get Scottish birth certificates. Either that or my father's family don't actually exist. (My mum **_**did**_** always claim that my grandad wasn't born, he just appeared one day when he was twenty-one. *Snort*)**


	9. Chapter 8

**A week early! I know, I spoil you, right? Actually, it's early because I'm heading off to do my job this weekend, so I'll be away at a con. The next chapter will be posted in two weeks, so I have time after the con to write it! :D **

Chapter Eight

_"Duck!"_ Harry flinched at Ignotus' yell as he stepped through the gate into his room in Riddle Manor but didn't even think twice about following the order and dropped to the floor in time to see a red spell pass over his head and through the gate.

"What the actual fuck was that?!" Harry exclaimed, standing up and blanching when he saw Voldemort leaning against the wall by his bed, glaring furiously and pointing his wand at him. Harry nibbled his lip and looked to the side at Ignotus, just as Cadmus and Antioch both walked through the gate, closing it behind them.

_"Hmm, thought we'd have more time before this confrontation happened,"_ Antioch said, making Harry glare at him before he turned all his attention back to the hostile Dark Lord now in his room.

"Er…"

"Yes, Mr Waterhouse? I suggest, if you want to continue living, that you follow me without struggling," Voldemort told him in a creepily calm voice that really didn't go with the furious look on the man's face.

Harry just swallowed and nodded his head, dropping his bag subtly on the floor and kicking it under his desk when Voldemort turned his back to him and walked out of the room.

"Come, Mr Waterhouse. Do not keep me waiting." Harry sighed silently, glanced at the Peverells, and then moved quickly to follow behind Voldemort, feeling more and more nervous as they neared their destination. Harry was paying so much attention to his thoughts and fears of what was about to happen, that he nearly collided with Voldemort's back when the man came to a stop in front of the door to the large ballroom, thankfully stopping just before he did.

_"You may have to tell him more about your abilities. Do not let him kill you. You are too important for that! Have you kept your bones on you?" _Ignotus asked him, worry evident on his face. Harry just nodded and placed his hand by the pouch tied to his belt.

"Inside, Mr Waterhouse," Voldemort told him, breaking Harry's silent conversation with Ignotus and motioning for Harry to walk into the ballroom, where there seemed to be a Death Eater meeting in progress. All the Death Eaters in the room turned when Harry walked in and watched as he stumbled towards where Voldemort pushed him. "Now that you have finally decided to come back, maybe you can tell me a bit more about yourself."

"Depends what you want to know," Harry said defiantly, deciding he was going to end up being cursed in someway anyway, so he might as well act how he wanted.

_"I said don't get killed, how is that answer not going to get you killed?" _Harry just ignored Ignotus and stared at Voldemort, ignoring the shuffling of the Death Eaters behind him.

"How did you appear in your bedroom? You have no magic, you're just a muggle," Voldemort pointed out, raising an eyebrow when Harry just sneered at him.

"Bloody wizards, always thinking you're better than muggles just because you have a stick of wood in your possession that can make things happen. Without that stick, you'd all be useless. Here's a shocker, muggles are far better than you lot. Where you relied on your magic and got lazy and fat, muggles had to fight for survival and use science to better themselves. I've never heard that wizards managed to put a man on the moon, whereas muggles have done that and so much more. Wizards stagnated, muggles evolved," Harry told them, hoping that Voldemort didn't notice he hadn't actually answered the question.

"Indeed. You're wrong of course, but I suppose we all have our different opinions. Now, clever distraction, but answer my question."

"Magic."

"You don't have magic, muggle!" Voldemort hissed, glaring angrily at him as he lifted his wand to point at Harry. "Now, tell me!"

"I told you! Magic! The dictionary definition of magic is altering something using mysterious forces. I altered my whereabouts, using forces that are a mystery to you, therefore magic. Deal with it, wizard."

"_CRUCIO!_" Harry barely had time to flinch before the spell hit him and knocked him to the floor as a wave of intense pleasure ran over him, making him moan aloud and arch his back up. The longer the spell was held on him, the more the pleasure increased, until Harry was gasping and panting, writhing on the floor, much to the Death Eater's stunned disbelief. Realising that his spell wasn't working in the way he wanted, Voldemort stopped it and stepped forward so he was looming over a now heavily panting Harry. "Tell me what you are."

"A baker!" Harry gasped out a little breathlessly, weakly moving to stand up on jelly-like legs.

_"Told you they didn't work in quite the same way on you,"_ Antioch drawled from where he was leaning against the wall, watching the proceedings along with his brothers. Harry just sneered weakly and stuck his finger up at him.

"You try my patience, muggle! Tell me!"

"Screw you."

"_Sectumsempra!_" Harry once more fell back as the force of the spell hit him, but nothing else happened other than giving him pins and needles in his arms and knocking the wind out of him. Judging from the looks he was getting, however, Harry was going to assume that that wasn't the intended result of the spell. "How are you doing this, muggle?!"

"Stop calling me muggle, wizard!" Harry spat, shifting so he was sitting, slumped over on the floor. He glanced out of the side of his eyes at the Peverells, noticing that they were all frowning in disapproval of Voldemort.

"Fine! Tell me where you went!"

"Out and about. Visiting dead relatives. The usual," Harry told him, grinning weakly and still a little out of breath and shaky from the first spell. He flinched a little when Voldemort pointed his wand at him once more.

"You ask for my protection and then you disregard my requests! I tried to be kind to you, muggle, and yet you continued to try my patience and ignore my rules! Tell me why I shouldn't kill you?"

"Death likes me."

"_Diffindo!_" Harry gasped in pain as a slash appeared across his stomach and started to bleed sluggishly, though it slowly started to visibly heal at a more accelerated rate. "Interesting how that spell worked."

"If that's what you want to call it," Harry muttered, silently mourning the loss of a decent t-shirt, and using the edge of the ruined shirt to dab up the blood, pretty much ignoring the wizard in front of him.

"_Stupefy!_" Harry's head jerked up at the uttered spell just as the light hit him and he felt light-headed before he fell into darkness with no idea as to what had just happened.

* * *

Harry groaned as he woke up, wincing as he felt a monstrous headache banging at his skull and slowly tried to sit up. He frowned in confusion when he heard a rattling as he moved and slowly opened his eyes, only to gape when he saw he was still in the ballroom but now he was chained to the wall behind what Harry liked to silently call Voldemort's stage.

"What the fuck?"

_"We did try to tell you not to annoy the Dark Lord so much. He knocked you out and then proceeded to chain you to that wall, he has no intention of letting you free until you tell him what he wants to know," _Cadmus told him quietly, crouching down next to where Harry was half sprawled out, leaning up on shaky arms.

Harry just stared at him in shock, before he slowly pushed himself up fully and moved to sit, leaning against the wall. He gave a futile tug of the chains, but wasn't entirely shocked when they didn't give.

"So I'm just stuck here until he either gets bored and kills me, or until I tell him what he wants to know? Bloody Dark Lords! Actually, fucking wizards! Think they're all so fucking great, don't they? Bastards, all of them," Harry muttered, tugging at the chain once more before dropping his hands into his lap and sighing loudly.

"Surely you don't think all wizards are bad, do you?" Harry jerked up in surprise at the question, he had thought he was alone in the room with Cadmus - he had no idea where Ignotus and Antioch were, nor his aunt.

"Marcus! What are you doing in here?" Harry asked, looking at the way Marcus was slightly pale and leaning against the wall as though it was supporting him, and frowning in concern. "Are you alright?"

"He wasn't too pleased that I'd let you leave. Why don't you just tell him what he wants to know?" Marcus asked, slowly moving so that he came to a stand in front of Harry and then lowered himself to the floor with a small wince of pain.

"Sorry. I didn't think he would literally shoot the messenger."

"I didn't have to tell on you, no need for you to be sorry. So, why won't you tell him?" Marcus asked, looking like he genuinely cared for the answer and was actually worried about Harry, something quite novel to Harry as he wasn't too used to the living actually caring all that much about him personally.

"If he knows, he'd use me."

"He already is. And if you don't tell him, then your use is going to drop and he's going to kill you. His patience has already all but gone with regards to you," Marcus pointed out bluntly, grinning slightly when Harry just glared at him.

"He'll regret it if he does. Besides, I did tell him the answer, it's not my fault he refused to believe me. He needs to realise that there are more types of magic in the world than wizarding magic. Don't be so narrow-minded," Harry told him with a shrug. Marcus just stared at him with narrowed eyes before sighing and shaking his head.

"You're too stubborn for your own good. Please consider telling him what he wants to know."

"If he can promise not to use that knowledge against me, then I'll think about it. Otherwise, I'd rather die. Why would I want to be used in a war between wizards? I don't even like wizards! You're all dicks!" Harry said with a shake of his head. "Look, just forget it. I don't really want you to get in trouble and associating with me right now is probably not going to go down well."

"Fine. Just tell me one thing and then I'll leave you alone."

"I'm making no promises, but go on."

"How come those spells didn't work right on you?" Marcus asked him. Harry stared at him and then looked to the side at Cadmus, who was sitting on the floor next to him and who shrugged at Harry's silent question.

Harry just rolled his eyes at Cadmus' unhelpful answer and then sighed and looked at Marcus, "Dark magic doesn't work on me like it should. And before you ask, no, I don't know why. It just doesn't."

"I suppose that would come in handy at times."

"Sure, not that I ever really expected to be exposed to dark magic," Harry said with a shrug, sighing and then stifling the yawn that wanted to escape. He hadn't had a chance to sleep - properly, he didn't count being knocked out - and so he was still exhausted from the rituals he had performed, his energy not fully recovered.

_"You should be sleeping. The bones will continue to drain your energy from you in small amounts for the next seven days. This Dark Lord really is messing everything up. I don't imagine Death is going to be impressed with him." _

"I'm going to head out now, I need sleep. You should probably try and get some sleep as well, you look like shit."

"Charmer," Harry muttered, with a small grin, not even bothering to stop the yawn that escaped this time. Marcus just smirked at him and then painfully stood up, glancing down at him with slight concern on his face before he quickly covered it up with a blank mask.

"Try and sleep. You're probably going to need it." And with that, Marcus turned and slowly left the room, leaving Harry alone with an unusually quiet Cadmus.

"So what now? And where are Ignotus and Antioch?"

_"Now you think about what to tell that Dark Lord. As for my brothers, Antioch is keeping an eye on Dumbledore, you are weak right now, we don't need him finding a way to get you and Ignotus is speaking with Our Lord, finding out if there is anyway He could help you." _

"What? No! Don't involve Him! He doesn't need to be bothered with this! You'll just annoy Him!" Harry exclaimed, startled by the news and feeling a bit of unrest about the whole thing.

_"Too late, Horatio. Now, I think we need to work out, between us, just what you should tell this Dark Lord and how to prevent him from using you to his own means. It's just a shame that you can't use those bones of yours for another seven days. They would have given you good advice. We will just have to do without however. So, do you have any ideas?"_

"Me? My ideas got me chained to a wall! Clearly I am not good with ideas! You're on your own there!"

_"Yes, you always were a little dense when it came to planning anything other than your little pilgrimages. Perhaps we should wait for Ignotus before making any life-changing plans. We can discuss if there is anything you could tell the Dark Lord that will satisfy him yet not really give anything about you away."_

"Okay, good thinking. So, let's plan then."

* * *

Harry jerked awake when he heard the door to the room open and someone walked in. Shifting a little, Harry stretched slightly and then pushed himself up to so that he could see who it was that had walked in. He quickly glanced to the side to see that Ignotus had apparently returned whilst he was sleeping. Looking up finally to see who had walked in, Harry silently groaned when he saw Lord Voldemort standing over him with a sneer on his face.

"Are you ready to talk today, muggle?"

"Sure, but probably not about what you want me to talk about, wizard."

_"Be careful how you deal with him, Horatio. Our Lord has stated he will not be letting you pass over yet, so you need not fear dying, but he cannot interfere anymore than that. As we've told you before, there are worse things than death." _

"We shall see. Tell me, muggle, where you went when you decided to ignore my instructions to stay in this manor."

_"You might as well tell him the truth. It's not going to help him at all," _Cadmus pointed out, Harry glanced at him and Ignotus, both looking a little more transparent than they had been recently telling Harry that his energy hadn't fully restored itself.

"I went to another cemetery to visit with family. It was the full moon, so I knew I would be safe as the dead have more strength and can watch over me and my enemies for longer. Plus, the relative I would be seeing is buried near a seer, so she would have let me know if she'd seen anything troubling in my near future anyway," Harry told him with a shrug, bending the truth just a touch so that Voldemort didn't get any hint of information Harry didn't want him knowing. Though Harry was also well aware that he was nearing the end of his deadline for keeping Voldemort ignorant.

"Hmm. And what was so important that you left the safety of my wards to talk to family?"

"I missed them."

"And yet, they can't talk to you here? You need to go to them? Even though you do not have that issue with the dead relatives of my followers? How does that work?"

"Ah. Er…"

_"He's trying to catch you out. You only ever said that the relative had to have a direct line to their descendant in order for you to hear them. Tell him the same applies to you!" _

"They're not direct ancestors. I was visiting a great-great uncle. I can't hear him unless I am close enough, so I tend to visit his grave when I want to speak to him," Harry told him with a shrug, glaring down at the chains around his wrists when they clinked at the movement.

"So you went somewhere more than twenty-five miles away? How did you get there? And how did you appear in your room when you don't have any magic?" Voldemort finally got around to asking the question Harry had no idea how to answer without giving away what he was.

_"I discussed this with Death. He suggested you tell him that He gives you certain abilities that could be seen as magic. For example, the gates you can open. The reason Voldemort seems to think you appeared out of nowhere, by the way, is because he can't see the gates. So tell him the truth without really telling him the truth,"_ Ignotus told him, ignoring the incredulous look Harry shot him. Tell the truth without telling the truth? How did one go about doing that?!

"Right. Here's the thing, I don't have magic, you're right, but I do have abilities that could be seen as magic. Death gave me certain talents, apparently. Well, according to the dead He did. One of the talents is er… basically being able to sort of jump to any cemetery that I have a link to. And by link, I mean, a dead relative in. Other than that though, I don't have an ounce of magic in me," Harry lied, smiling up at an annoyed Voldemort.

"Then why does dark magic not seem to affect you?"

"No idea."

"I don't believe you."

"Sucks to be you then, don't it?" Harry said with a shrug, taking no notice of the glare Voldemort was sending him.

"Tell me the truth!"

"I did. I don't know why. Sheesh."

"Infuriating muggle! Why are you not afraid of me?! Do you not realise what I can do to you?"

"Sure, but my fear doesn't mean I can miraculously come up with answers."

Voldemort practically growled at Harry for that answer, before he straightened up from where he was looming over Harry and then spun to leave the room, robes whipping behind him as he slammed the door shut.

"Well, at least he didn't disfigure me."

_"Give him time. Cassandra fears that you won't be able to keep your secrets for much longer. Apparently the future whispers of conflict and strife for you. She can't tell when or how long you have though."_

"Well shit. Do you have any news on Dumbledore?"

_"He seems to have pulled your parents to the side to finally tell them that he was looking for you and has told them that he 'fears Voldemort got to you first'. I get the impression he is either trying to make them think it is too late for you or he is trying to get them to agree to upping the search and 'rescue' for you. So far, James seems to agree to anything Dumbledore suggests but Lily doesn't believe him and wants to know why Dumbledore was looking for you in the first place. Dumbledore hasn't answered her questions so she is refusing to agree to any of his plans."_

"What plans?"

_"Using their blood to pinpoint your location. Of course, it wouldn't work as you don't have the same blood as them, especially since your maturation, so we don't have to worry about him getting their blood in some other way." _

"Well, I suppose that's something then. Do you think I'll ever actually get out of here?"

_"Not without dying. Or at least telling him what he wants to know. I think it's time to accept that you will not be able to stay out of this war for very much longer,"_ Cadmus told him in what Harry assumed was meant to be a sympathetic tone though Cadmus had never really been very good at offering Harry comfort, sympathy or anything other than scorn actually.

"Great. Does He know that?"

_"He's aware of that, yes. He expects you to uphold the rules as well as you can and to remember that your job is not to choose who will live or die. Though, He did say He would turn a blind eye to anyone you felt needed to learn a lesson."_

"Well, that's nice of Him then! Guess I should reconsider letting Voldemort know just what I can do then, huh?"

* * *

Later that day Harry was sitting in the ballroom, which had stayed empty since Voldemort had left him, and was keeping himself busy by focusing on the bones in the pouch tied to his belt when the door opened once again and someone walked in that Harry couldn't recall having actually met before. Which was odd, given he'd been living there for long enough to surely have met everyone. Though admittedly, most of the Death Eaters did avoid him as much as possible so actually it wasn't all that surprising.

"Er… hello?" Harry asked, looking at the twitchy looking man with hair that reminded him a little of straw who'd just walked into the room and was now staring at him with wide, slightly crazy looking blue eyes.

_"This one is crazier than you and without the excuse for being so, careful how you deal with him,"_ Cadmus muttered, staring at the crazy looking man warily and moving closer to Harry - not that they'd be an ounce of help to him should he need it. As already proven by the fact he was currently chained to a wall.

"You speak to the dead?" The man asked him, slowly moving further into the room and nearer to Harry, which made Harry feel even more nervous.

"Apparently so."

"All the dead?"

"Well, unless they've been reincarnated, then yeah. All the dead," Harry confirmed, shooting a sideways glance to Ignotus and Cadmus, both of whom had moved from looking concerned to now looking more amused.

_"He's going to eventually, when he stops beating around the bush, ask about me. I assume. I'm Caspar Crouch. His grandfather."_ Harry looked to where the voice had come from and barely needed to concentrate anymore in order to have a translucent stern looking man appear standing just behind the crazy man.

"Er…"

"I'm Barty, by the way," the man, Barty apparently, told him in a shockingly lucid tone that startled Harry's attention back to him.

"Hi? Er… I'm Harry. I'm sorry, but why are you here?" Harry asked, finally deciding to just bite the bullet and get to the point, because he was chained to a wall, there really was only so much drama, angst and anticipation he could take in one sitting.

"I was intrigued. I haven't gotten a chance to talk to you, yet. Flint keeps all your attention. You unnerve the rest of the Death Eaters though. Did you really insult Mini-Malfoy?" Barty asked him with a grin, moving the final couple of steps to stand in front of him and then quickly moving to sit on the floor facing him.

Harry just stared at him silently for a beat before he grinned and shrugged, "yeah, he was a brat, so I treated him like a brat. Why do you want to know?"

"It amused me when I heard. Not many dare to tell the Malfoy brat that he's not the centre of the universe. It's even more rare that the one that did it was a muggle. What did he do to annoy you so much?"

"He thought he was above me. I disagreed. And then I let him know that I disagreed. So… you're a Death Eater, huh? How come?"

"My father's a bastard. He arrested me."

"Huh. Why'd he do that?"

"I was caught attempting to torture information out of two aurors. Sadly they survived, though one of them probably wished he hadn't survived. Oh well. Still, my bastard of a dad threw me in prison without any real solid proof."

"You mean other than being caught at the scene of the crime?" Harry asked, grinning when Barty actually just looked sheepish, as though he'd been caught with a hand in the biscuit tin as opposed to torturing two people.

"Well, other than that. Still, he was my father!"

_"Insanity runs in the family, I'm afraid. I should have argued more when my father arranged a marriage with Charis. The Blacks are all insane."_

"I here ya," Harry said, not too sure who he was answering, Barty or Caspar.

"You do?"

"Sure. My dad didn't even acknowledge my existence once he figured out I was completely insane. Dads totally suck," Harry said with a nod, mentally admitting that there was perhaps a small difference in their experiences. He hadn't tortured anyone for example. "Exactly what did happen to the guy who survived but wished he hadn't?"

"Oh, he was tortured into insanity. In all fairness, that wasn't actually me. Bella did that. In fact, I didn't even get to torture anyone! We were stopped before I could even raise my wand!"

"So you were totally innocent then?"

"Yes! I was!"

"You should make your father pay then," Harry said with a small nod, grinning when Caspar just stared at him incredulously before shaking his head and walking over to stand next to a mildly amused Cadmus and an exasperated Ignotus.

"That's what I think! So, enough about me though, how about you?"

"What about me?"

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, you know, hanging around…" Harry said with a quick glance to the manacles on his wrists currently chaining him to the wall behind him and silently wondering if Barty had actually noticed them. "Actually, I'm getting a bit hungry. Been a while since I last ate you see. Don't suppose you know where I could get some food from, do you?"

"I'm not sure if we're allowed to feed the prisoners. I'd have to ask My Lord to find out," Barty told him, somehow managing to sound apologetic about it as well.

"Ah, never mind then," Harry told him with a shrug, he wasn't too sure he wanted Lord Voldemort to remember about him again today and he'd be fine living off his death energy for a few more days at least.

"Why don't you just tell him what he wants to know?"

"I don't want to be controlled," Harry finally admitted out loud, getting sharp looks from all three spirits in the room and Barty.

"I can understand that. My father was a bit too controlling for my liking. It's why I followed the Dark Lord. He gave me freedom. He does listen to his followers, you know. If you told him your limits and what you don't want to do, he's probably going to listen if it's reasonable."

"Maybe."

_"He has a point. I've been with my grandson since I died and this Lord Voldemort isn't quite as bad as those light wizards would have you believe. More so now he's realised the folly of having so many horcruxes and has reabsorbed all but one of them now."_ Caspar told him, making Harry look up at him in alarm.

"Wait, what?"

"What did I say? I didn't say anything. Did I?" Barty asked, looking confused and obviously mentally rethinking anything he might have just said, which amused Harry just a tiny bit before he recalled what had just shocked him.

"No, not you. Your grandfather."

"Er… he's dea-oh. Okay."

_"He was a Ravenclaw for a reason. Well, he did lose a little of his mind and intelligence in that dreadful prison my son locked him in. As for what I said, I said the Dark Lord only has one horcrux now." _

"Is he insane?!" Harry near shrieked, getting a strange look from Barty though the three spirits all just looked a little uncomfortable.

_"You knew there was something off about him, Horatio, why does this shock you?" _

"You know… I have no idea," Harry admitted weakly, slumping back down to lean against the wall once more though still a little unnerved by the new information he'd been told.

"What's it like?" Barty suddenly asked from where he'd been sitting silently watching Harry talk to thin air.

"What's what like?"

"Speaking to the dead?"

"Mostly it's bloody annoying. I have no privacy and sometimes they just have no idea how to shut up. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's nice to know that I have family that will always be there for me no matter what, but still annoying. But it's also really useful."

"Huh. I don't think there would be many dead people who'd want to talk to me if I could hear them."

"The dead don't care much about right and wrong, you know. Either way it's not really going to affect them anymore. And your grandfather is currently in here, he's rather interested in you."

"Really? I'm assuming you're talking about Caspar Crouch."

"Yep. That's the one. He's quite an interesting fellow."

_"Thank you."_

"Should you be in here?" Harry finally asked, looking at Barty curiously and, for some reason, not wanting the strange yet interesting man to be punished for visiting him.

"No one told us we weren't allowed in here so I don't see why not."

"Oh, right. So…" Harry looked around the large room as though it would give him ideas on what he could say. Not that he was feeling uncomfortable or awkward, but he kinda like Barty and actually wanted him to stick around for a bit longer.

"I think you should consider telling the Dark Lord what it is he wants to know. Eventually he's going to get bored and you're currently making this room not available for meetings, so he'll just get rid of you soon."

"What? It's not my fault I'm in here! He bloody chained me in this room! Really, he's only got himself to blame."

"Possibly. But he's the Dark Lord. Not many are willing to tell him when he's wrong," Barty pointed out, showing that the insane could also be intelligent and logical. When they wanted to be.

"You do have a point," Harry conceded, begrudgingly. He then sighed and shifted again to try and get comfortable, mournfully wishing for a cushion or something soft to sit on. "So how important are you in the Death Eater ranks?"

"I'm in the inner circle."

"The… right. Of course. Can't be evil without an inner circle," Harry muttered to himself, ignoring the snort of amusement from Cadmus. "What do you do?"

"Not a lot. I quite like the weird things muggles have invented to get around their lack of magic, so I tend to be asked to do things that involve computers and such. I was asked to look into your past for example."

"Oh? Find anything interesting?"

"Well, apparently your religion is Jedi. What's that?" Barty asked him, looking slightly baffled when Harry burst into laughter.

"Brilliant! Well, to be honest, I don't actually really have a religion. Not really. And being a Jedi sounded more fun that declaring myself an atheist or something. It's the governments fault for allowing it as a religion!" Harry declared finally, still grinning and not looking at all sorry for the fact he'd basically lied on the official census.

"Huh. But what is a jedi?"

"They use the force," Harry told him in his best Alec Guinness impression whilst waving his hand in what he hoped looked slightly mystical.

"The force?"

"Yep."

"And that is?"

"It is what it is. It holds the world together. Still, never mind that, what else did you find out?"

"Not a lot, to be honest. Nothing of interest at least. Though Horatio is a weird name."

"Says Bartemus? Right, hello, Pot, meet Kettle."

"Why did you call me pot?"

"Never mind."

* * *

Harry was left alone for a few days after his visit from Barty, not even Voldemort actually coming in to see him, sadly this also meant that no one had thought to feed him either, which quite frankly pissed him off. He was, unfortunately, becoming weaker and his death energy was no longer fully supporting him, though on the upside, he had finished charging his bones so he could focus what little energy he had left into keeping himself conscious. He was getting pretty weak though.

Which was why he didn't really move from his slouched position against the wall when the door swung open, banging against the wall before closing behind whoever had walked in the room. He knew it wasn't Voldemort because he couldn't even sense the Dark Lord in the manor, never mind the room.

"Well well, look at you now, muggle. Not so brave anymore, are you?" Harry groaned as he recognised the whiny, pompous voice of the person now standing over him.

"Good god, I clearly killed a whole room of puppies and kittens in a past life to have to put up with you," Harry whined, shifting to lie on his back and look up at the arrogant face of Draco Malfoy. "You do know you're a dick, right?"

"I don't think you're in the position to be saying anything negative about me. Perhaps, if you grovelled, I would put a good word in to my Lord for you," Draco told him smirking when Harry just stared at him as though he were crazy.

"It's the inbreeding, isn't it? Either that or your magic has just decided it can't stay with you for much longer and has decided to eat away at your braincells. What do you think, Ant?" Harry asked, moving his head to the side to where the three Peverell brothers had been standing pretty much since Harry had been chained in that room.

"Who are you talking to! Muggle, I think it's time you stopped lying to our lord! You are nothing special!"

"Neither are you and yet here you are, thinking you're above me. Strange how I haven't seen a peep of you since I've been here until now, when your lord is no longer on the premises."

"You're a muggle! A pathetic, magicless muggle. Your place is beneath me, begging me for mercy."

"Good gods, you really are delusional, aren't you? Please, please, do go and say that to a muggle that has a gun and an itchy trigger finger."

"I don't know what you mean, but I would say it to anyone."

"Statute of secrecy doesn't actually mean anything to you, does it?" Harry asked, grinning as Draco seemed to get more and more flustered the more Harry refused to bow to his whims. "Here's the deal, you piss off and leave me alone, and I won't tell Voldemort you were in here torturing me with your presence and I also won't sell your family secrets to whatever newspaper you wizards read. Actually, I won't tell the Inland Revinue that you're citizens of this fine country and yet have never paid a penny in taxes for centuries. My god, think of the fines."

"Shut up, muggle!"

"You shut up, inadequate wizardling."

"How dare you!"

"No, how dare you? Stop playing about, pretending to be above everyone when you are in fact nothing but dirt. Leave now before I go hypoglycaemic on your pasty white arse."

"What?!" Draco demanded, indignantly. Standing up straight and glaring down at Harry, who was slowly pushing himself up so he was standing. He wasn't feeling quite so comfortable being lower on the ground to Draco.

"I said, naff off. I don't care about you or your thoughts and ideals. You think I'm below you, I think you're below me. Clearly we were meant to disagree. Now leave, before I do something we'll both probably regret."

"Are you threatening me?!"

"Yes. Is it working?"

"What do you think you can do to me, muggle?" Draco asked, sneering at him. Harry silently admitted that, leaning weakly against the wall as he currently was, he probably wasn't looking at his most threatening.

"Oh, I can do a lot to you. But you'll probably be more receptive to the fact your Lord has just arrived back home. Torturing his victims probably won't go down well without his consent."

"I'm not torturing you!"

"You mere presence is torture, I'm sure he'll agree. Now, seriously, go away," Harry told him, actually wondering if Draco really _was_ mentally deficient, because he didn't seem to be getting the message.

"I belong here more that you do. It's about time My Lord realise you are nothing but a pitiful muggle with no uses at all. He's going to get rid of you and I'll be there to watch."

"Right. That's it. I fucking warned you, you bloody idiot," Harry snapped, pushing himself off from the wall to stand up straight, ignoring the alarmed looks the Peverell's were sending him and instead focusing on Draco.

_"Now, now, Horatio. Don't do anything too hasty. His Lord will be here any minute now and he can deal with him."_

_"Shut up, Ignotus! Let him show that miserable little mortal where his place is! It's about time people knew about Necromancers once more!" _

_"Antioch, don't encourage him. Harry, at least reconsider what you're about to do."_

"No! I've had it up to here with fucking wizards thinking they own the world just because they're freaks of fucking nature that can use magic! Survival of the fittest does not mean survival of only those with magic!" Harry yelled, feeling what little grasp on sanity and calm he had snap as he stepped forward and grabbed Draco Malfoy by the lapels of his robes.

"Unhand me, muggle!"

"One! You miserable waste of life, I am not a fucking muggle! Can a muggle do this?!" Harry hissed, yanking his hands back and pulling out a ghostly replica of Draco, said replica making a startled noise and staring at Harry with dawning apprehension and fear. "Do not push me, wizard! You might have magic and that might mean you can shit all over the laws of physics, but I have a way better grasp on Life and Death! The only reason I won't kill you now is because you'll fucking haunt me and whine until I shoot myself just get rid of your irritating voice!"

"W-what?!"

"Shut up! I didn't say you could talk!" Harry screamed, shaking the spirit of Draco that he now held in his grasp before reaching up and yanking a handful of translucent hair from spirit-Draco's head, grinning maliciously at the pained yelp that brought before forcefully shoving the spirit back into its body.

"W-what are you?"

"I'm your worst fucking nightmare, wizard! I now have a piece of your essence and I can use it to make you do some pretty damned unpleasant things! I am Death's Favoured! I hold His secrets and am gifted with His blood! Don't fucking mess with me again, you snivelling piece of waste, or I'll make sure you don't have enough essence left to die properly! Forever left with enough conscience to know you can't die, and yet can't live. Enough presence to feel the world moving on without you but not enough to make anyone give a flying fuck about you. You won't live. You won't die. You'll just be. So think of that before you try to act above your station!"

Harry slumped back against the wall as all his adrenaline and energy finally left him, breathing heavily but with just enough energy to stay conscious and glare at a white, shaking Draco. He blinked a couple of times to try and stave off the spots of black that were threatening to take over his consciousness, before he glanced past Draco at the sound of clapping. He didn't have the energy left in him to groan in dismay when he saw Lord Voldemort and several masked Death Eaters all standing just inside the doorway and staring at him in slight shock.

"Well, well. It looks like you can do a lot more than just talk to the dead. Perhaps now you will answer my questions." Harry just blinked at Voldemort before he shakily lifted his hand and gave him the finger, then collapsed to the floor and finally passed out.

* * *

**A/N - So, Harry snapped. To be fair, he hadn't eaten in at least seven days and if anyone has ever been hypoglycaemic, you'll know you tend to have a short fuse and scream abuse at whoever is near you just before you pass out. My brother says I pass out in order to avoid retaliation. *Snickers***

**Let me know what you thought of this chapter! Let's be honest now, Draco totally deserved everything Harry gave him because he's an irritating little shit. Heh. **

**Oh! And yes, if anyone was wondering, should there be a pairing, then it'll be a toss up between Barty and Marcus. Feel free to let me know your opinions on this but a reason why you're against one/both of them would be nice. You know, something other than 'because I don't like them'. *Grins* **

**Remember now, reviews mean love! And I'm a shameless review whore… I love all reviews! Even the ones from the tenacious few that still want this to be Voldemort/Harry… you know who you are! *Grins* (Psst. You're totally gonna be disappointed, btw)**

**Fact of the chapter: Due to an overwhelming amount of people putting Jedi as their religion (yes, me included) on the 2001 England/Wales census, it was officially recognised as a religion. You are now allowed to request a Jedi Knight tp give you your last rights. *snickers* Totally not making this up. Also, yes, I'm well aware that it would have been illegal for Barty to actually access the data of any census held under a hundred years before but he's a Death Eater and flouting the Data Protections Act of 1998 is really the least of his worries. *grins***

**Oh… and er… small confession… I've foolishly redownloaded The Sims 2… It's sucked out my soul. I'm terribly sorry. **


	10. Chapter 9

**First off, wow, the response to the previous chapter was just incredible. Glad you all seemed to like it so much! Thank you for your reviews! Hope you enjoy this chapter just as much! :) **

**Also, it was amusing just how many of you assumed Voldemort didn't allow Harry to drink. It was only stated that Voldemort withheld food, not drink. *Grins* And technically, a human being can hold out for up to three weeks with no food. It's only about three days without water though. **

Chapter Nine

Harry winced when he woke up to the feeling of someone drilling their way out of his skull with extreme prejudice and couldn't stop himself from groaning like he was dying when he rolled onto his back and was promptly blinded when the bright sunlight somehow managed to shine through his closed eyelids and completely burn out his pupils. He mentally cursed whatever wanker thought it would be a good idea to take his sunglasses off him and not shut the bloody curtains.

"Good to see you finally conscious, Mr Waterhouse." Harry groaned once again when he heard Voldemort speak from somewhere near his head.

"Glasses," Harry whined, moving his hand to cover his eyes and somehow managing to withhold the pout he wanted to give when he heard the tell-tale sound of chains dragging along the floor when he moved. Apparently he was still chained up.

"What was that?"

"I need my sunglasses. The light is too bright," Harry somehow managed to force out, even though he currently felt like he was the hangover from hell but without the fun of having gotten drunk. He twitched slightly when he felt someone kneel by his head and then place what he hoped was his sunglasses on his face. When he opened his eyes, he gave a sigh of relief at the darkness and stared at a manically grinning Barty, who was the one who had apparently given him his glasses. "Yo, Barty."

"Our Lord has some questions for you," Barty told him, still grinning and moving to help him sit up before he stood up and moved back to stand just behind Voldemort, along with the rest of the inner circle apparently.

"He's not my lord. I have allegiance to another lord. A more powerful lord," Harry muttered without much thought, wincing as he shuffled so that he could lean against the wall he was chained to. Still.

"Indeed. That is one of the questions I would like answered. However, the first and most important one I feel would be what you did to young Mr Malfoy?" Voldemort questioned him. Harry glanced at him and shrugged all whilst trying to concentrate on himself enough to see where he was at concerning his magic. When he finally noticed it, it was barely existent it was so low, which explained to him why he couldn't see any dead people in the room and couldn't hear anyone yet. Though that also might be because they were just being ignorant fuckers.

"I taught him a well deserved lesson," Harry drawled, sneering over at where he spotted a very pale Draco being somewhat comforted by his emotionless father. Harry thought it was actually quite fascinating to watch.

"And what lesson would that be?" Voldemort asked him, making Harry really wish someone dead was talking to him just so they could advise him on what to say now. Though he fully accepted that the jig was probably up.

"Not to pick on those he deems weaker than him. Even kittens have sharp claws and teeth, plus wasn't it a kitten that eventually caused the death of the bloke in Trainspotting? Not the point, the point is, it's about time he learnt that. He's far too old to have gone this far without someone finally knocking him off that pedestal he placed himself on."

"Well, you do have a point there," Voldemort admitted smoothly, glancing over at Draco who was probably too traumatised by what had happened earlier to actually react. Actually, Harry had no idea how long he'd been unconscious for, though he deduced it hadn't been for long. "Tell me, what did you do to him?"

"Look, can we have this conversation after I've had something to eat? Or slept. Both would be good but I'm not greedy, one or the other. As it is, I have a banging headache, I feel somewhat queasy and the room is still spinning a little. So if you don't want me to pass out again or throw up on you, really, sleep or food," Harry told him with a small shrug, wishing he hadn't done that seconds later as the room seemed to lurch forward slightly and made his already dodgy stomach roll violently.

"I will have someone bring you some food. Should you have to sleep, you will sleep in here. Until I have my answers, I will not be unchaining you though. I will come back in an hour," Voldemort told him before leaving the room, the rest of the Death Eaters in the room with them leaving, only two lingering slightly to give Harry a small glance before they too both left.

He only had to wait a few minutes before a small elf popped in with a plate of food - Harry was happy to note it was meat-free - and placed it in front of him with a bow before popping back out of the room. With a sigh, Harry quickly ate the food in front of him, making sure not to over do it and cause himself to just throw it all up again, and then pushed the plate away from him and lay down on the floor hoping to get a bit of rest.

* * *

Just under an hour later and Harry was awake after having only gotten thirty minutes of sleep and was thankfully energised enough to finally be able to hear his ancestors, though they had told him not to bother trying to see them just yet as it would just wear him out.

"Protactinium."

_"You always use that!"_ Harry grinned at the indignant tone of Antioch and shuffled a little to get comfortable as he waited for Antioch's response. _"It's unfair to use elements that were discovered after I died!"_

"That would be pretty much everything then. Thrilling. Now, stop whining and give me an element."

_"Fine. Platinum. You do always use Protactinium though." _

"So? It's an awesome element. And fun to say. It's my second favourite! Just behind my next element. Potassium!"

_"Lead."_

"What?! No! How does that begin with a P?!"

_"Its symbol is Pb. That begins with a P._"

"That's cheating! You cheater!"

"Mr Waterhouse." Harry stopped in his whining about Antioch's blatant cheating and turned to see that Voldemort and his posse had arrived once again and were all looking at him like he was a little bit insane. Harry thought they would have been used to his randomness by now.

"Voldemort, how's it hanging?" Harry asked nonchalantly, trying not to show how desperately bored and tired he was. A change of scenery would really do him some good. Plus he'd also found out that metal cuffs really chafed.

"Now that you have eaten and rested, perhaps you would like to now enlighten us on what you did to young Mr Malfoy?" Voldemort asked him, moving into the room so that he could stand over where Harry was sitting on the floor, the rest of the inner circle Death Eaters walking in to stand in a semi-circle behind Voldemort like the well-trained minions they were.

_"Our Lord has stated that it is time the world once again knows of Necromancers. Therefore it's up to you to get that knowledge across. I say you should start with him." _Harry glanced over to where Ignotus' voice came from and gave a small nod before taking a deep breath and actually telling someone other than his aunt just what he was.

"Well?"

"I'm a necromancer," Harry said, deciding to just rip the plaster off in one go so to speak. He then looked up when the silence grew a little and noticed all the Death Eaters _and_ Voldemort were just staring at him, looking a little stunned.

"A necromancer?"

"Yep."

"Someone who can create inferi?" Voldemort asked him, raising an eyebrow when Harry sneered and visibly bristled at the question.

"No! I'm an actual necromancer, not one of those wannabe's who think they're playing with Death, when in reality they're just puppeteers acting above their station. If I were to raise the dead, they would be capable of thought and making decisions," Harry told him, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at Voldemort as though daring him to contradict him.

"What is the difference then? Could, say, I not do the same as you? I have created inferi after all."

"Have you indeed? Well, given what I know about your soul and your thoughts of Death, then I can tell you for a start that you are not a necromancer. Besides, it isn't about talent, it's about blood."

"Blood?"

"Yes. You think I'm a muggle. Hell, you think I'm human. I'm not. I'm a necromancer. It isn't just a designation of magic, it's a species. Were I to give a blood sample, it wouldn't come back as human. I didn't lie to that blond idiot when I said I literally had Death in my veins. He chose me upon my conception as having the right selection of genes and you could say he adopted me. He's my Lord, my Master and most of all, he's my creator."

"So he's your father?"

"No, he's more than that. You can betray, ignore, disown, murder or disobey your father. I cannot do any of those things to Death. He owns me."

"So you were not being rude and stubborn when you claimed you had another lord?"

"No, I wasn't. He is my Lord. I do what he tells me. He has recently passed on that wizards need to relearn of necromancers. It is my job, being the last in existence, to pass that word on. Starting with you," Harry explained, with a small shrug.

"What were you doing when you disappeared?" Voldemort asked him, still looking at him like he was a rare bug that needed to be dissected and studied. It was a somewhat unnerving look to be held under.

"Ah, that," Harry paused and glanced to the side where he knew the currently invisible - even to him - spirits were standing, watching this whole conversation.

_"Show him. You have enough energy for this should they require more than the proof of the bones themselves."_ Harry gave a nod at Ignotus' words and slowly moved his hand to his belt and tugged the ever-present pouch free from his belt.

"I made these," Harry said, holding up the pouch for everyone to see before he poured the bones inside out into his hand. "These are my bones. Freely offered bones of the dead who have something to offer me. Be that strength of will and character, determination, fore-sight, knowledge, wisdom, anything. I use these bones and they will give me whatever it is their previous owners treasured the most."

"Who do they belong to?" A masked Death Eater that Harry didn't recognise the voice of asked him, before shuffling at the unimpressed look Voldemort shot him over his shoulder.

"They belong to me. Unless you meant who _did_ they belong to? In which case, they belonged to several people. Some related to me by blood, some involved in raising me and some just of the dead who had heard of me and offered when my mentor asked."

"Your mentor? Would that be Death?" Voldemort asked him, actually sounding genuinely curious, though Harry couldn't help but note that the man was now acting a lot more wary around him. Harry guessed that his relatives were right, Voldemort truly did fear Death.

"No. Death is my master, not my mentor. The dead are my mentors, but my main one would be the last necromancer to have lived. You've probably heard of him and his brothers. Though only in fairy tales."

"Oh? And who are they?"

"The Peverell's. My main mentor is Ignotus Peverell," Harry told them, smirking when many of the Death Eaters couldn't prevent themselves from gasping out loud.

"The last owner of the Deathly Hallows?" Voldemort asked him with a raised eyebrow, looking like he wasn't entirely sure he should believe Harry or not.

"Sure, if that's what you want to focus on. I'd forget about them though, they're lost. No one will be able to own all three ever again. So I'd get that idea out of your mind. The more important thing to know is that he was the last necromancer before I came along. _He_ was the one who ensured no one living would ever remember the necromancer race until it was once again time."

"Why? Why erase them from history?"

"It was too dangerous. Wizards became fearful and jealous of what they couldn't have. Never mind that they had powers we couldn't access, they wanted what we had. So they started to look for ways to gain it. The Deathly Hallows were one way, when Antioch was murdered for his wand, Cadmus and Ignotus realised they needed a plan. Death and Magic aided them and soon the knowledge of necromancers was lost and died with them."

"So you are not immortal then?"

"No, not really. Death can refuse to take our soul if He feels there is more we can do whilst alive, but other than that, we can still die. Besides, who wants to live forever? The best friends I've made are all dead, when I die, I get to meet them once more. Death is nothing to fear and everything to look forward to."

"You sound suicidal," Voldemort told him dryly, looking highly unimpressed by what Harry felt was a rather impassioned speech. Apparently not so much to those that actually _do_ fear death.

"Not really. I'm happy alive, I'm just saying if I _were_ to die, it wouldn't exactly be a terrible thing."

"Quite. So you can raise the dead so that they are capable of thought?"

"Yep."

"So you can raise me an army of the dead?"

"No."

"Pardon?"

"I wouldn't raise you an army. Ignoring the fact that Death would not allow it and would punish me quite severely for doing so, I wouldn't do it anyway."

"And why not?"

"Because, why the hell should the dead fight for you? They've lived their life, fought their battles, who are we to raise them and make them fight once more for something that doesn't affect them. So many people die during war and feel relief that they no longer have to fight. Death is a release and escape for so many out there and you want to drag them from that peace to fight your war? No. I'm not doing it."

"And if I were to… persuade you?"

"There is not enough persuasion in the world to get me to do that. The dead are happy to spy for me so to speak, happy to keep an eye on my enemies, and thus your enemies and tell me of their plans, but only because it doesn't take them away from the afterlife. Passing on information is not fighting. Torture me all you like, you'll just piss me, the dead and Death off," Harry told him, bristling slightly at the idea of being forced to raise the dead.

"But you _can_ raise the dead?"

"Yes, I can. Were I to decide to have a bloody tea party with the dead and they agreed to it, then I could raise them and let them join in. But there's a hell of a difference between raising the dead to join you in a cup of tea and raising the dead to fight a battle you're too cowardly to fight yourself."

"What good are you then if you cannot raise the dead?" Voldemort asked him with a sneer on his face, clearly having forgotten most of what had happened to bring them to this point.

"Ask Draco? I'm pretty sure he knows not to mess with me now."

"True. What is it you did to him, exactly?"

"I essentially ripped out his living essence, and then I stole a piece of that essence so that, should he completely lose his mind and decide to piss me off again, I can control him. Similar to that spell of yours, the imperius? Only there is no way of breaking this spell. He would basically be my puppet. He really shouldn't have pushed me."

"He never has shown much self-preservation. I've always wondered how he got into Slytherin," Voldemort admitted, making Harry grin when one of the masked Death Eaters gave a small huff of indignation.

"So now you know what I am and pretty much what I can do, are you going to finally let me go? I promise I'll let you know should I need to go traipsing around graveyards and cemeteries again," Harry promised, though not entirely meaning it as he was pretty certain he'd wander off at some point in the future without telling anyone. His aunt called him a free spirit… well, when she was feeling nice. The rest of the time, she called him an annoying little shit who couldn't sit still.

"Soon. Before though, is there anything else I should know?"

"Fairies are allergic to me."

"Pardon?" Voldemort asked, looking for all the world like he had no idea what he was now staring at, nor what it was trying to tell him. Something Harry felt he should be insulted by but really didn't have the energy by this point.

"Well, I'm sort of fatal to fairies. Most small creatures actually. See, I have a sort of aura of death magic surrounding me. And little creatures, like fairies, are overwhelmed by this aura and it just sort of sucks their life essence and soul out of them. It's a bit awkward. I mean, it's not like it's my fault or anything but the little shits don't see it that way! Oh… and well, owls are fine around me for a time, but the longer they stay in my vicinity, the weaker they get until they kinda snuff it. Larger than an eagle owl, and it's fine though! I think," Harry added absently, before glancing over to where he thought his uncles were standing.

_"We never tried either. Not like anyone has the time to hug a damned cat for twenty-four hours. Though I imagine we were all tempted to test it with your neighbours bloody yapping dog. Why it had a problem with you, I don't know!"_ Cadmus ranted, much to Harry amusement, though he did agree with Cadmus about the dog.

"I think it probably smelt death."

_"No excuse."_

"I didn't say it was an excuse. I'm just saying that's probably why it took such a dislike to me. In fairness though, it was quite a small dog, smaller than a cat and probably about the same size as an owl, so I could totally suck its soul out, I bet."

"Is he talking about killing someone's pet?" Harry ignored the hissed whisper from one of the Death Eaters, though he did absently wonder why they took umbrage to him killing a pet when they killed fathers, mothers and children. Probably. Though he didn't actually have proof of that.

_"I doubt Mrs Fairbrother would appreciate that. Though you won't see me actually stopping you should you wish to try."_

"Good to know. So, Lord Voldemort, can I please leave here now and go back to my room? I really would like to be able to sleep in an actual bed now that you know it wouldn't be wise at all to kill me."

"You have never actually said _why_ it would be a bad idea to kill you. You just pointed out why it wouldn't be wise to torture you."

"Well, I'd have assumed the same people that would be pissed you tortured me, would also be pissed that you killed me. But, if that's not a good enough reason, then you should probably be aware that it's considered bad luck to kill a necromancer," Harry told him with a wide smile, though inside he really just wanted to sleep and stop with all the carefully worded games and deals.

"Bad luck?"

"Yep. You know the myth of the Elder Wand, right? Well, the first person who owned that wand after Antioch didn't live for long, did he? He killed a necromancer, his luck took a swift and sudden nose-dive."

"I thought it was the wand that was unlucky," Voldemort pointed out, to which Harry just shrugged and shook his head.

"No. It was the original act of killing a necromancer. Of course, it didn't help that the wand was created for Antioch and didn't want to be owned by another. When you rely so much on a weapon that doesn't want to help you, you're really shit out of luck."

"Must you be so crude all the time?"

"I haven't truly slept for over a week, deal with my crude language. Or let me sleep."

"Fine, I will let you go, but you will tell me when you leave and why you are doing so. And I expect that we will have another conversation in my office at a later date about what else you can do. I imagine you do not wish for everyone to know your secrets."

"True."

"Good. There is one thing I would like to know though."

"Oh?"

"Yes, is it possible for you to find out who the spy you mentioned is?" Voldemort asked him, ignoring the shuffling behind him from the Death Eaters as they muttered to one another about the spy. Clearly all were still a little miffed that there was one in the first place.

"I don't know their name. It has never been said in a meeting and if any of the dead know who it is, then they aren't saying. If I meet them, however, then I can have the person I have watching Dumbledore, tell me who it is."

"You have a specific person watching him? So the dead are not omniscient?"

"No. What the hell kind of peace would that be? To constantly be aware of everyone and everything living. No, when you die, you can choose what or who you watch over, if anything. There is something. Some place that the dead can go where they don't have to acknowledge the living world. I don't know what it is, admittedly. It's something you can only learn of when you've died. I only know of it's vague existence. Still, I have to assign people to keep an eye on certain people or places if I want more detailed information. Basically, I have my own spies positioned."

"Interesting to know."

"Great. So, can I please go now?"

"Yes. You are now free to do as you wish within reason," Voldemort told him, before the chains tying Harry to the wall were vanished with a wave of Voldemort's wand. Harry gave a small sigh of relief and rubbed at his sore wrists, before slowly standing up and bowing his head slightly to Voldemort.

"Cheers. Now, excuse me but I'm in need of a shower and then some sleep. I'll come find you when I'm feeling a bit more awake and with it."

* * *

Harry managed to sleep, uninterrupted, for fourteen hours and awoke the next day feeling slightly more refreshed than he had for days and was pleased that he could see his family once again. Clearly he was fully rejuvenated.

Given the early hour that he had woken up, Harry had decided to just catch up with the dead and find out the gossip, and also get news on how his shop was. He was relieved to know that no one had destroyed it or broken in to it, but he was still pissed that Dumbledore had placed wards over both his properties to alert him in Harry should return. He really just wanted to open his bakery. It was driving him mad.

Harry's conversation with his relatives was interrupted around eight in the morning by a light tapping on his window, which completely confused Harry.

"What's that?"

_"I believe your menace of an owl is at the window,"_ Sylv told him, making Harry glance at her and then to the window and saw that she was right.

"What on earth does he want? I thought I'd finally got rid of the pest," Harry grumbled, getting out of bed and walking over to the window to let the insane owl in. He quickly gave a muffled squeak as the owl dive-bombed him and pecked at his head before leaving him alone and settling on Harry's bedpost.

"Hoo."

"What the fuck does 'Hoo' mean? Do we know anyone that speaks owl?"

_"In all my years, dead and alive, I've never come across someone who could talk to owls. Or, indeed, who __thought__ they could speak to owls," _Antioch drawled, staring at the insane owl that was now gnawing at the bed post without taking its eyes off of Harry. Who was just staring back at it.

"It'd be kinda cool being able to speak to animals."

_"Of course, Dr Doolittle. Maybe you should just follow the owl,"_ Sylv pointed out, making Harry blink and look at her before looking back at Horus when he hooted and bobbed his head in what _could_ be seen as a nod.

"Is he supposed to be able to understand us? Seriously, this owl freaks me out and I talk to the dead on a regular basis, so that's really something."

_"No, it's not. You got freaked out by a mink coat."_

"It squeaked in pain!"

_"Don't be stupid, the dead can't feel pain."_

"It can remember it! That's not the point, now, you stupid owl, do you want me to follow you?" Harry asked, mentally wondering just _why_ he was speaking to an owl like it could understand him. He was therefore stunned when Horus once again bobbed his head and then flew out of Harry's window. "He surely doesn't expect me to follow him out of the window."

_"I'm not an expert in understanding owls, but I believe he's just waiting for you outside. I suggest you just go to where he's waiting before he gets annoyed and comes for you. You know he likes to try and pull your beads out,"_ Sylv pointed out with a poorly hidden grin, to which Harry just glared at her before sighing and grabbing his darker sunglasses so he didn't blind himself in the sun.

"Come on then, let's go see what the annoyance wants," Harry muttered, walking out of his room and heading through the hallways of Riddle Manor. He reached the doors of the manor without anyone stopping him and, given he wasn't actually intending to the leave the grounds, Harry shrugged and left - it was too late to double back and inform Voldemort that he would be leaving to go into the cemetery to talk to an owl of all things anyway. Plus he didn't want to admit what it was he was going to do.

Even he had his limits on how insane he wanted people to think he was.

"Where'd he go?"

_"I believe he's sitting on my grave, young Necromancer." _

"Hi, Tom. Don't suppose you can speak owl, can you?"

_"I'm afraid not. My wayward son is the only person I know of that can talk to an animal._"

"Damn. Well, let's go see if we can find out what he wants then," Harry mumbled, walking through the headstones to where Tom Riddle Senior's grave was. As soon as he was within sight of the grave, Horus hooted at him and gave a weird little hop-bob on the spot.

It became pretty apparent what Horus wanted with him once he stood by the grave and noticed hissing on the floor by his feet, looking down, Harry was stunned to see a snake that looked far too much like Telemacchus, Charlus' snake, to be a coincidence.

"Er… someone needs to go get a parseltongue. Preferably dead _and_ sane, but I'm not too picky," Harry added, really hoping that they didn't come back with Voldemort's criminally insane uncle.

_"Cadmus claimed that the only living necromancer needed a parseltongue. Winthrop Slytherin at your service," _a stocky looking spirit with dark narrow eyes and a gaunt looking face said, bowing his head at Harry slightly before smirking at him.

"Er… Right. Well, my owl wanted me to come here and it seems my brother's snake is waiting for me. Possibly. Well, I'm assuming it's my brother's snake. It _looks_ like Tel."

_"So you want me to basically act as a translator? That is fine,_" Winthrop told him with a nod, before he looked at the snake. _"He cannot see me, can he?"_

"Oh right! Of course! Erm… I can do this one of two ways, but there's one that would allow me to access your gift for the duration of your visit."

_"Would that not be line theft?" _Winthrop asked him, eyes narrowing a touch in suspicion as he took a step back from Harry.

Before Harry could defend himself, however, Antioch stepped forward between Winthrop and Harry, and looked at the now wary spirit.

_"It would not be line theft for several reasons, the main one being Harry would not keep your gift once he lets you go. There is also the fact this is more risky for him than it is for you,"_ Antioch explained, before stepping back to the side to stand next to his brothers and nodding for Harry to continue.

"Antioch's right. If we were to go this route, I would essentially be giving you partial control of my mind and body. Only partial control, mind. You wouldn't be possessing me, just sharing your essence with me so I can understand what Tel is saying," Harry told him, trying to keep his face and voice from showing just how nervous he was to do this. Something he had never done before and had, in fact, only learnt of in theory six months before.

_"How is it risky for you? I do not wish to harm Death's favourite mortal."_

"Oh, well, if you don't fight me and accept the touch of my magic in your spirit, then it should go smoothly. However, if you fight me there is a chance our essences will clash and it'll either kill me outright, irreparably damage my connection to my death energy or turn me into a dementor. They didn't just appear out of nowhere after all."

_"What would happen to me should any of those things happen?" _

_"In essence, nothing would happen. However, as you rightly pointed out, Horatio is Death's current favourite and should something happen to him, He may well take it out on you. However, he is Death's favourite for a reason and he is blessed in more ways than he actually knows. It is very unlikely Death would allow anything unfavourable to happen to Horatio,"_ Ignotus told Winthrop before Harry could even think of what the answer would be.

_"I said I would help you if I could, and this is something I can do to help you, so you have my trust. Just do not keep the gift I am lending you."_

"I wouldn't be able to even if I had wanted to. Magic doesn't work like that. She wouldn't let me keep something that is not mine."

_"Very well, what is it we need to do? Your snake is starting to get anxious, so I believe we should do whatever it is and soon."_

"Right. You need to stand behind me, facing my back and as close as you can without walking through me, then you need to rest your hand over the left side of my head, making sure you're only covering one bead. The others shouldn't be in the way," Harry told him, smiling slightly when Winthrop just nodded and moved to follow his direction.

_"Now what?"_

"Now you just concentrate on me and that bead. When you feel my magic reaching out to you, don't fight it. Allow it to wash over you. When it fills you, that is when you physically grab on to the bead."

_"I will be able to?"_

"If this works, then yes. Now, are you ready?"

_"I am."_

"Right! Remember, don't fight me," Harry told him and then closed his eyes and focused on the cold, shadowy energy that filled him and concentrated on manipulating said energy into the spirit standing behind him. He felt his energy reach out and had to withhold a sigh of relief when Winthrop accepted it without hesitation. A few more minutes passed before Harry felt something tug on the bead and Harry willed his energy to return to his body along with the spirit it was currently embracing.

The next moment felt like it took hours and at the same time felt like only seconds passed before he had the uncomfortable sensation of ice cold air hitting him and robbing him of breath. Harry gasped and drew in an almost painful breath, before opening his eyes and having to grab onto the headstone he was standing next to as his vision double and wavered before finally settling.

"This is so very weird," Harry muttered, almost shuddering when he felt something in the back of his mind give a feeling of agreement. "Winthrop, I need you to concentrate on what it is you wish to lend me."

Again, Harry felt an alien presence in the back of his mind give its agreement and then Harry gasped and smiled brightly as he felt a spark of foreign energy wash over him like he'd just stepped into direct sunlight.

Harry then glanced down at Telemacchus - who had fallen silent when Harry and Winthrop had started the merging - and smiled brightly at the little snake which was no longer little. He was, in fact, at least five foot in length now and as thick as Harry's arm.

"_**Telemacchus?**_" Harry startled a little at hearing his own voice come out with an echo of hisses to it. The snake looked up at him and slithered closer to Harry. Harry grinned before quickly sitting on the ground so he was more level with the large snake.

"_**You have changed much since you were taken from your nest, little Life Giver,**_" Telemacchus hissed at him, making Harry smile widely at the snake - though he did wonder about the nickname.

"_**I guess I have. You've changed too. I'm glad to see you looking so healthy and slightly more deadly than before. Charlie chose well, huh?**_"

"_**I like to think I chose him. However I have never regretted doing so.**_"

"_**Well that's good. So… what are you doing here? Actually, how did you **__**get**__** here?**_" Harry asked the snake, getting to the real reason he was sitting in the middle of a cemetery talking to a snake with a dead roommate currently inhabiting the back of his mind.

"_**My little snakeling is troubled and he feels that you are really the only one who could possibly help him in any way. He used some sort of magic to send me to your place of residence, only you were not there. The owl seemed to know I was looking for you and brought me here.**_"

"_**Wait, what? How could I help Charlie? I'm a muggle! And I thought James had told everyone I was dead. And how did he know where I was?**_"

"_**Your mother knew you were not a squib but she did not know what you were. Charlus knew. Well, he suspected and I confirmed it. Knowledge of your kind may have been wiped from the memories of humans and wizards, but there are still some species who remember you. Snakes are just one of them.**_"

"_**Okay… what does that have to do with anything though?**_" Harry asked, feeling like he would have more luck getting blood from a stone than he was in getting a straight answer from his brother's familiar.

"_**As I said, your mother knew there was something about you. Charlus also knew. Lily worried that wizards would eventually want to get their hands on you so she hid all knowledge she had of you except your existence from her mind. She made your brother the secret keeper of that knowledge.**_"

"_**What? What does that mean?**_"

"_**A few months before you turned fifteen, things in the wizarding world started becoming more dangerous. Dumbledore implied Charlus would need help in his battle. Lily took that as a threat towards you, whether rightly or wrongly, Charlus agreed. They both knew no one suspected Charlus of remembering you or having any feelings towards you. No one realised how close you were as children. Because of all this, no one would ever suspect Charlus of hiding your existence with his soul and magic.**_"

"_**But Dumbledore found me,**_" Harry couldn't help but point out, feeling slightly stunned by the revelation and feeling like a worry he hadn't realised he harboured had left him upon hearing his brother remembered him and still cared for him.

"_**No. He found your aunt. Lily and Charlus could not fully hide your existence, it would have raised suspicions if James suddenly didn't recall that he had a second son - whether alive or not - and Remus would have wondered why he had a godfather link to nothing. So people still remembered you, but they could recall nothing else. No one knows what happened to you, what you looked like when you left or indeed when exactly you left. They just know you existed, you were a squib and that you disappeared one day. Unfortunately for you, Dumbledore obviously remembered all of this and he researched your mother's family. He found out your aunt had died and had left everything she owned to her nephew. You.**_"

"_**So he doesn't know anything else?**_"

"_**No. Your brother still holds the secret. He hasn't even told Lily. He only told me so that I could find you and ask for help.**_"

"_**How does he think I can help though? I don't want to fight in this war. I have no wizarding magic, this war does not involve me. I'll only reenter the wizarding world once the war is won. By whatever side.**_"

"_**He does not want you to fight. He does not want to fight. Charlus wants to hide. He wants to disappear. He thinks you can help him in this. And if not you, then either your Lord or your contacts.**_"

"_**And Charlus knows what I am?**_" Harry asked, frowning as he tried to compute everything Telemacchus was telling him and wondering what it is he should do.

"_**You and he were as close as twins from the moment you were born. He always knew you could see things he couldn't and he knew you were special. He just didn't know what it was you could see until he confided in me and I told him what I suspected. Charlus didn't worry too much about you when you left because he knew you would have many more people watching your back than he ever would and they would protect you more than he could if you had stayed in their world. You are his baby brother. He did everything he could to protect you. Now he has admitted to himself that perhaps he needs his baby brother's help to get away from this war and Dumbledore.**_"

"_**But what about mum, Dahlia and Rose? Who would watch over them with neither me nor Charlus around?**_" Harry asked, nibbling on his lip anxiously and glancing towards the manor even though he knew one of the Peverell's would warn him if Voldemort was coming near. This was too important to be overheard.

"_**Lily knows Charlus plans to disappear. She supports his decision. She has sent your sisters out of the country under the pretence of a world tour and she has made her own plans to get away should she need to.**_"

"_**And Charlie trusts me to help him?**_"

"_**He does.**_"

"_**Well, who am I to say no? You need to tell him that we need to talk somehow. Does he know how the muggle world works?**_"

"_**Your mother ensured all of her children would be able to survive in the muggle world, not just you. Do not worry, your siblings stayed connected to their muggle ancestry and have kept up to date with all changes this magic-free world has gone through.**_"

"_**So he knows what a phone is?**_"

"_**He does. He and your sisters all have a walking phone?**_"

"_**Mobile,**_" Harry corrected with a small smile at the snake's mistake.

"_**Yes, that. They all have one. Though I believe they only use them when there isn't any magic around to interfere and they only talk to each other with them.**_"

"_**Okay, that helps a lot. If I give you my number, do you think you can remember it long enough to tell Charlus what it is?**_" Harry asked, suddenly very glad that his little used mobile phone had been in his bag when he'd fled to Voldemort. He just had to find an electricity source to charge it which shouldn't be too hard given Riddle Manor is a muggle building.

"_**I will be able to tell him it.**_" Harry nodded at the snakes answer and then slowly gave his number to the snake, waiting a moment before he then asked Telemacchus to repeat it to him. Happy that the snake had recalled the right number, Harry stood up, wincing a little as his knees clicked and the blood rushed back into his legs.

"_**Tell him to send me a text when he can talk and I'll make sure I'm somewhere I won't be overheard. In the mean time, I'll try to find out what Voldemort plans to do should he capture Charlus and I'll work with my… contacts to make a plan to hide Charlus. Do you have a safe way of getting back to Charlus?**_" Harry asked the snake, glancing over his shoulder when Cadmus shuffled uncomfortably and shot a look in the direction of Riddle Manor. Harry got the hint and nodded.

"_**I will find a way back to him.**_"

"_**Horus will take you back to him. Stay safe and protect my brother,**_" Harry asked of the snake and then stepped back when Horus swooped down and gently grasped Telemacchus in his claws and flew away. Harry took a moment to focus on his emotions and calm himself down before he focused on the energy of Winthrop and slowly stared to separate it from his own. "Winthrop, you can let go of the bead now."

Harry felt a small wave of agreement wash over him and then winced as Winthrop's essence was gently tugged out of his soul and the spirit stepped out of him.

_"That was quite a strange experience. I am glad to have been able to help you though. Should you need my help to talk to that snake again, then you only have to ask." _

"Thank you, Winthrop. You were a great help! And thank you for your generous offer!"

_"It is nothing, Little Necromancer. The whipsers in the beyond about you did not give you near enough credit. It was an honour to help you,"_ Winthrop told him with a small smile on his face.

"Oh, um… thank you?"

_"You're quite welcome. I'll be leaving now as I believe my descendant is looking for you,"_ Winthrop told him with a smirk before he faded out of view. Harry sighed and turned to look at the Peverell's and his aunt.

"That was interesting. I'll tell you what I learnt once I've found out what Voldemort wants, if that's okay with you four?"

_"That is fine with us. I imagine Voldemort wishes to continue your conversation from yesterday now that you are awake,"_ Ignotus pointed out, grinning when Harry just groaned and rolled his eyes.

"Of course. Well, better not keep him waiting then, huh?" Harry said before turning on the balls of his feet and walking back towards the Manor and Voldemort for what he was sure would be a long, drawn out and boring conversation.

* * *

**A/N - This chapter took me so long to write (partly because my life has decided to suck at the moment)! And it ended up being way longer than I expected it would! Seriously, half of what happened I hadn't actually planned to happen! They just took over and did whatever the hell they wanted! Actually, the same could be said for the next chapter as well. A character turns up in that that I hadn't intended to include for quite a while… XD**

**Still, I hope this answers some questions about what Harry can do, as well as some questions people had about the beads in Harry's hair. *Grins***

**Oh! And I never really said **_**who**_** took Lily's memories of where Harry was from her. Lol! It also let's you know that the dead don't know everything and they can interpret actions incorrectly. Also, it's not terribly surprising that Harry doesn't hate his brother. What did Charlus ever do to him, after all? *Grins***

**Hope you liked this chapter! Let me know what you thought! Reviews mean love! :D **

**Chapter Fact: Upon researching my family, I have found that i am related to a murderer, several thieves, god knows how many ****illegitimate children, a WW1 gunner who spent more time in the military prison than in the trenches (apparently a very smart man...) and a orangeman who was hanged for treason. And so far I've only made it as far back as the mid 1800s... **

**Oh yes! Before I forget… thought I ought to tell you that Marcus won the vote! :D Quite a few people wanted all three to be together (more than wanted just Barty actually). Those that worried about it suddenly becoming a romance fic, no fears there! I suck at writing romance! *Snickers* It'll be a background thing… possibly a complete farce as Marcus battles to get the slightly dense and so very oblivious Harry to realise he has feelings for him. *Snort***


	11. Chapter 10

***Winces* Yeah. My bad. This is a wee bit late… In my defence I've foolishly decided to make my mum a tapestry of her family tree for Christmas. Which is actually kinda nearer than I thought (73 sleeps apparently). So yeah… I've been doing that. And making up more and more imaginative curses the more the damned thread tangles. *Mutters* Yep. I'm a fool. Still, Rest assured, I'm not abandoning this, even if there may be a few longer delays between chapters. Plus I've got three cons coming up in the next two months, one of which is London Film and Comic Con so I'll be busy making stock to sell as well! Bear with me, please! I promise I'll still be writing this every chance I get! Thank you for your patience! :D**

Chapter Ten

The following days, and then weeks, after Harry's meeting and conversation with his brother's familiar went quickly and though Harry had managed to actually find an electricity source and had charged his phone - now keeping it on him at all times - Harry had yet to hear back from his brother. He was actually starting to get a little worried about Charlus and was also beginning to wonder if Telemacchus had just forgotten Harry's mobile number. It really wouldn't have surprised him.

At that moment however, Harry was heading towards Barty's rooms to meet with the man, before he left to celebrate Mabon - something none of his relatives had let him forget about. Harry arrived at the doors to Barty's rooms and knocked, smiling brightly at the slightly mentally unstable man when he answered the door.

"Hey, Barty! How's things going?" Harry asked as he walked into the room and went to sit on the sofa he normally sat on in these visits - something that had become quite regular since Harry had met the man during his slight incarceration - watching as the pale man moved to sit opposite him.

"I am fine, little muggle. I believe my lord has a task for me soon enough, though I don't know what it will be. It does mean I'll probably be away. How are you? I heard you asked my lord if you could have free reign of the cemetery and the part of the woods that are within his wards. How come?" Barty asked him, twitching slightly and glancing around them suspiciously before turning his attention back to Harry, who was just fascinated by the man's actions. He still hadn't actually worked out what it was Barty was looking for.

"Oh, it's Mabon tonight. You know, the celebration of the second harvest, which means equality and balance. I get the impression that wizards don't celebrate it though. I spent the morning making a few garlands and such that I'll be using and I may have quickly visited my garden for the herbs and things that I'd need for the celebrations as well," Harry admitted with a small sheepish grin, only getting a mildly scolding look from Barty in return.

"You know my lord wouldn't be pleased to learn of that."

"Which is why I didn't tell him! And you won't either, will you, Barty?"

"If he doesn't ask me, then I see no reason why I should," Barty admitted with a smirk, getting a laugh from Harry.

"I knew I could trust you. Want to join me in my celebrations tonight? I asked Marcus but he said he didn't follow it so it wouldn't be right to join in. Ridiculous reasoning to me but I'm not known to actually follow the rules," Harry added with a grin, which widened when Barty snorted in amusement.

"Well, I don't celebrate Mabon either, but I don't see why that would stop me joining you. Exactly what is involved in the celebrations?" Barty asked him and Harry shifted a little, ignoring the chuckles of Ignotus and Cadmus, who had both just appeared from the Green Room of the Dead, where they'd been spending the earlier part of the day with their former wives.

_"I'm interested to find out what his reaction will be._"

"Shh," Harry hissed at Cadmus before turning back to Barty, who hadn't even blinked at the interruption - something Harry found he really liked about Barty - and smiling sheepishly at him. "Well… The first part of the night, which happens before three am, you wear a plain robe - normally in earthy colours like reds, oranges and browns - and you show your appreciation of those that came before you and have since departed. And, you know, celebrate the balance between and equality of life and death, and well, mysteries and the second harvest as well, but I focus less on those because of what I am. Technically speaking, necromancers only celebrated the balance and equality part of Mabon."

"Sounds alright so far, why do you seem hesitant to admit what else happens?" Barty asked him, eyes narrowed with suspicion, and Harry cursed the man's increased sense of paranoia.

"Well, okay fine, after three am, we need to shed our earthly shackles so to speak and celebrate our life whilst embracing our - or mine at least - lord, Death and His decision for when we shall leave this plane. Thing is, shedding our earthly shackles is interpreted by shedding our robes. So… we'd be naked. But, technically, you don't have to do that part because you're not a necromancer. The more pagan Mabon celebrations don't involved gratuitous nudity. Apparently," Harry muttered under his breath, looking sideways at where Cadmus and Ignotus were snickering.

"So I wouldn't have to join in the part where you get naked?" Barty asked him, smirking when Harry turned bright red and shook his head, mentally cursing his pale skin and dark blush.

"No, you wouldn't have to join in that part. Just the first half," Harry confirmed, glaring slightly when Barty's smirk widened.

"Fine. I'll join in."

"Really?!" Harry asked, not entirely sure he'd heard right, a glance to the stunned Peverells standing to the side showed they were also shocked at Barty's answer.

"Yes. I will just leave you before the final half of the night. I believe I have a brown robe somewhere," Barty added, almost to himself as he started to look around the room as though expecting said brown robe to miraculously appear in front of him.

Though, from what Harry knew about magic, that could well actually happen.

"That's great! I'll get everything else sorted out then! I'll meet you outside in about three hours, yeah?" Harry asked, smiling widely at Barty and actually looking forward to having someone living to share his celebrations with for the first time in a long while. "Oh, and don't eat too much. I'll be bringing food with me that we can eat."

And with that, Harry jumped up from his seat, darted forward to give Barty a quick pat on the shoulder - Harry wasn't a fan of too much human contact, it brought about bad things - and then rushed out of the room before Barty could actually form any kind of response or answer.

* * *

Harry excitedly hurried out of the manor, everything he would possibly need for that night bundled up and held securely in his hands as he quickly made his way to the bottom of the steps, where he could see Barty was waiting for him in his usual twitchy paranoid manner. Harry couldn't help but beam happily when he saw that Barty was wearing a set of expensive looking robes in a rich dark chocolate brown. They made Harry's own set of dark red robes look a little bedraggled and threadbare.

"Barty! You actually came! I kinda thought you were just saying yes so that I wouldn't pester you. Generally that's why most people agreed with whatever I asked them to do. Well, by people, I mean my aunt. Or the dead," Harry added hastily, grinning sheepishly when Barty just looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't agree to anything that I do not intend to do," Barty told him, smirking when Harry just beamed at him.

"Well, I'm glad! So let's go!"

"What is it we'll be doing, exactly?" Barty asked him as he followed Harry down the main driveway of the large manor and towards the private cemetery that was just inside the wards.

"Oh, you know, celebrating the second harvest by eating the food I've brought, celebrating the balance and equality of Death. Well, you could celebrate the mystery as well, but when you talk to the dead on a regular basis, the mystery is pretty much lost," Harry admitted with a shrug.

"Will your relatives be here with you as well?"

"Yeah. Well, eventually. They've all spent most of the day with the dead relatives I can't speak to away from their grave or place of death. Right now, no one is with us but I imagine they'll meet us at the graves," Harry told him with a shrug, fairly certain that at least Ignotus and Aunty Sylv would be there, as they were every year. Voldemort's great uncle Ranulph would probably be there as well, seeing as he found the whole thing fascinating.

"What else will we do?"

"We'll decorate the graves with acorns, pine cones, leaves, flowers and such. I've got a selection of items to choose from. And I've made a couple of garlands as well to place on some certain graves that I have a connection to. Basically though, we'll just be celebrating what the night means. Apparently, according to Antioch at least, wizards used to celebrate on some of these nights as it increased their connection to the Great Mother Magic. It doesn't work for me, but it might for you. You just have to believe it will."

"The Great Mother Magic?"

"Yeah… you know, the being who chooses who gets Her gift and who does not," Harry said, looking at Barty with a small frown when he realised Barty had no idea who he was talking about.

_"You'll find that wizards forgot their origins long ago and became delusional with the thought they were minor gods to the muggles. None believe that there is a deity out there who gifts those unborn souls she deems worthy. That would mean they weren't all powerful. You'll find that is probably the reason why wizards have been getting weaker generation by generation. And why there are less and less of them each year. She is no longer finding them worthy." _

"Antioch! I didn't know you'd be here tonight," Harry said happily, pushing what Antioch had just told him to the back of his mind for the time being as he greeted the spirit leaning against Tom Riddle Snr's headstone. Barty just glanced at where Harry was looking before shrugging and taking a spot against another headstone.

_"And miss you actually celebrating Mabon with a living being? That is not very likely."_ Antioch told him with a smirk that just received a glare from Harry.

"Right. Of course. How could I have foolishly convinced myself for a second that it was just because you wanted to spend time with me," Harry muttered, pouting childishly and then turning his back on Antioch and focusing on Barty. "As to your question, The Great Mother is the being who gifted you with magic. Just like Death gifted me. Admittedly, tonight isn't one of Her nights, Her next one is Samhain. I think."

"We don't learn about her," Barty admitted with a shrug, though Harry got the feeling that Barty wasn't brushing him off.

"You should. But maybe even if just you acknowledge Her, that will be enough. I mean, you have nothing to lose, right? And Death isn't going to care that you showed The Great Mother respect instead of Himself," Harry told him with a shrug, placing his bundle down on the ground and picking out a tiny bunch of marigolds, thistles and roses, tied together with a stem of honeysuckle and stood up with it. "Here. My gift to you on this eve of Mabon."

Barty took the small bunch of flowers from Harry with a bemused expression on his face before he grinned widely and nodded his head at Harry. "No one gives me gifts normally."

"Really? Huh. That's a little sad. I should change that! Admittedly, I don't actually tend to get gifts anymore, either. Well, unless it's practical, like bones. The dead give me those."

_"Glad to be appreciated," _Ignotus drawled, having appeared at some point during Harry and Barty's small exchange.

"You're always appreciated, Ignotus."

"Could I put a charm on this so it doesn't die?" Barty asked, looking at the flowers in his hand like it was something he'd never seen before. Harry just watched him silently for a moment or two before the question registered in his head.

"Huh. Marcus asked something similar when I gave him his. But the answer is no. Sorry. That's not really what nature intended. Everything has its time, including those flowers. But, you can always press them in a heavy book. That'll preserve them a little," Harry told him with a shrug. He hadn't even known there were spells that prevented things from dying until Marcus had asked him earlier, but the whole thing made him feel slightly uncomfortable. Understandable really, given how connected to the dead he was. Still, nothing should live forever in his mind.

"Ah, I will have to do that then. Sorry for not thinking. I imagine things that don't die make you somewhat uncomfortable," Barty said, making Harry wonder if the man could read his mind in a fit of paranoia before realising that was impossible and just giving another beaming smile at the twitchy man.

"Exactly! Now, first we'll decorate the graves a little, then we'll sit next to Tom Riddle's grave and eat some of the food, give thanks and just try to connect with either Death or The Great Mother. Um… maybe you really shouldn't try to connect with Death," Harry added, ignoring the snickering from his relatives.

"Why not?"

"Just in case it works and er… you die."

"Ah. Best not to then."

_"No one ever accused my grandson of being stupid."_ Harry looked to the side and saw that Caspar Crouch had also joined them, really the cemetery was going to be jam-packed at this rate.

"Probably a good idea. Unless you're suicidal. Well. Even then it'd be a shit idea, because there's no guarantee Death would actually feel or even accept the connection. Really, if you want to kill yourself, there are probably better ways to go about it. Um… Not that suicide is a better way. What were we talking about again?"

_"Suicide, connecting to Death, generally complete nonsense. When are you going to decorate my grave, boy?"_

"Sometimes I totally understand why your son went batshit crazy and killed you, you know," Harry said mildly, ignoring the outraged look on Tom's face when he saw that Barty looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"Your relationship with the dead grows more and more fascinating every day."

"Thanks?"

"You're welcome. I have a question before we start the celebrations."

"Go on."

"Can you let others see the dead?" Harry, Ignotus and Antioch all stiffened at the question and looked at Barty suspiciously.

"Why do you ask?"

"I just… I was curious. Why? Is it a bad question?"

"It's a suspicious question. People who tend to want to know the answer to that want to control the dead. Which is something necromancers won't allow. We're the guardians of the dead, I suppose you could say," Harry explained, still a little on guard and wondering if he was wrong to tentatively try and form a friendship with Barty. He'd been lucky so far that no one other than Voldemort - who hadn't bothered to hide his intentions - had tried to use him.

"Sorry. I didn't meant to offend you. I just wondered because I would have liked to have spoken to my dead relatives at some point in the future if I took you to the family plot," Barty admitted with a twitchy shrug.

_"He's probably telling the truth. As long as I've been watching over the boy, he's never shown much inclination towards controlling the dead. Or anyone really. He's much more interested in torturing people. And probably killing them. Controlling them isn't really his thing,"_ Caspar told him, just shrugging with a grin when Harry and Antioch both looked at him incredulously.

"Oh well, when you put it that way, why the bloody hell not? Seriously? You need to work on your persuasion skills," Harry snapped at Caspar before turning to Barty, who was looking at where Caspar was standing with a curious look on his face. "Why do you want to speak to your family?"

"You said a while back that the dead didn't hold grudges or believe in light and dark, and I've never actually known a family member that liked me. Well, other than my mother. Could I speak to my mother?" Barty asked him suddenly, looking quite eager for Harry's answer which just made Harry flounder for a little as he'd never actually heard from Barty's mother, only ever his grandfather.

"Er… is she dead?"

"Yes. She died about twenty years ago. Why?"

"I've just… I've never spoken to her. What's her name?"

"She was called Vesta Crouch. Well, her maiden name was Pritchard."

"Huh, is she actually dead?" Harry asked, looking over at Antioch, Ignotus and Caspar.

_"She is. You haven't spoken to her because she didn't die near here," _Antioch told him patiently, though he did then roll his eyes when Harry just looked confused. _"Have you not noticed that you have only spoken to male relatives of those around you? The dead relative has to be of the same gender." _

"Why the hell didn't you tell me this before?"

_"It never came up._"

"Whatever. You just forgot. Right. Anyway, Barty. Um… apparently she is dead, so at least you weren't lied to on that. Silver linings and all!"

"Yes, I knew she was dead. Can I speak to her?"

"Antioch?"

_"If you trust him, I do not see why not. You might want to ask where she died though,"_ Antioch said with a small smirk, which then morphed into a grin when Harry stared at him with narrowed eyes.

"I've been told to ask where your mother is buried."

"Ah."

"Ah? Well that's never good. Because if she died at sea and is therefore under water, well, that's not going to work. Actually, do you think I could talk to dead sharks?" Harry asked, looking at Antioch and Ignotus, both of whom just sighed and pinched the bridge of their nose. Caspar just stared at him with eerily the same expression as his living grandson. "What?"

"Can you speak to living sharks?"

"Never tried. Probably not though. Oh! Okay, yeah, I see. Right, sorry. Back on track. Your mother isn't buried at sea, is she?"

"No. But it's probably just as hard to get there."

"Oh?"

"She died and is buried in Azkaban."

"Sheesh, that a family place? You're right though. It would be hard to get in there, not just because I'm forbidden."

"I thought wizards didn't know about necromancers. How did they know to forbid you?"

"Ah, no. Wizards didn't. Death did. We're not allowed to go there unless we fuck up and have no choice. Even then, He'll be pretty damn pissed with us and will refuse to let us pass on until He feels we're remorseful," Harry said vaguely, fidgeting a little as it wasn't exactly a topic of conversation he was comfortable with.

"So we wouldn't be able to speak to my mother anyway, then?"

"No, sorry."

"But can you allow me to speak to the dead you can access?"

"Er…"

_"You would have to trust him implicitly." _

"Sorry, Barty. I just don't think I would be able to do that."

"That is fine. I just thought I would ask. So, what should we do now?"

_"Bloody give thanks to us! Wizards! Honestly!"_

"Seriously, you're just making me like your son more and more," Harry muttered under his breath with a glare at Tom, who'd actually managed to stay quiet up until then. "We should decorate the graves before the resident spirits get arsey. Or more arsey than they already are."

"Okay. What do we do to do that?"

"Make spirits arsey? Not a lot."

"Decorate the graves."

"Oh! Yes, right. Just walk around and place whatever's on this pile on the graves in here," Harry told him, motioning to the pile of items he'd brought with him. Not that he hadn't trusted the man to collect his own pine cones and such, this was just easier.

Barty just stared at him for a moment, before nodding and grabbing a bunch of the offered items and moving to place them on random graves, just as Harry had asked. Smiling as he watched Barty, Harry then moved forward and picked up one of the two garlands he'd made and draped it over Tom Riddle Snr's headstone.

"There we go! See! I do appreciate you allowing me to use your grave so much! Look, I even added some red _and_ orange roses! Actually, it looks rather nice, if I do say so myself," Harry admitted, admiring the extravagant garland he'd spent most of the previous day making, formed of a mix of ferns and honeysuckle twined together and then decorated with marigolds, roses, passionflowers and thistles, with a sprig or two of sage as well and all finished off with a rich brown ribbon tied at the end.

_"Hmm, you're right. It is a nice one you've made for me this year. Thank you. I'll continue to allow your use of my grave then. Don't forget to give my brother-in-law his blasted garland. He'll never bloody shut up about it if you don't!"_ Harry rolled his eyes at Tom's harping but did as directed and moved to stand in front of Ranulph's headstone and placed the garland on it.

"Do you know if he'll be stopping by again this year?" Harry asked, glancing over to Tom before his eyes searched out Barty and saw the Death Eater was quietly placing pinecones and sprigs of herbs that Harry had supplied whilst muttering to himself. Not that Harry was really one to cast stones on that topic.

_"He should be. Though probably once your… friend has gone. You know he's shy." _

"I'm the only one who can see him," Harry deadpanned, staring at Barty and then looking back at Tom, who just shrugged.

_"We're of noble birth. We're delicate." _

"You do know you're talking utter bollocks, right? Oh well! That doesn't matter. Will you be staying for the celebrations to Our Lord tonight?" Harry asked, crouching so that he could neaten one of the ribbons on Ranulph's garland and then straightening the whole thing up so that it looked neater. To his eyes at least.

_"Your Lord. And yes, I'll be sticking around. Though I don't understand why you have to get naked."_

"It's symbolic."

_"More shambolic."_

"How long have you waited to be able to say that?" Harry asked, before turning back to Barty who was walking back over to him, not waiting to hear what Tom had to say. "Have you finished?"

"Yes. There are a lot of Thomas' in this family," Barty pointed out, twitching slightly when Tom walked through him in a huff, which made Harry wonder if Barty had sensed that or if the man was just twitching like usual.

"Yep. There's quite a few Roberts as well. Which always made me giggle a little. I mean, Robert Riddle? Who would name their child that?"

"What do we do now?" Barty asked, clearly deciding not to comment on Harry's question and instead swiftly bring the topic back on track.

"Now we just sit down, eat some nuts, fruit and berries and then send a mental prayer to your god of choice. Or, you know, mentally sing a song. Either works," Harry told him with a grin, grabbing his wrist and pulling Barty to a space between a few older graves where he'd left the cloth bag full of food, and sitting down.

Barty glanced at him for a second or two before shrugging and sitting down opposite him, taking the offering of apples and bread from Harry when he handed it over.

"So, we eat this food because it is the celebration of the second harvest of the year and Mother Nature has gifted us with fruit, nuts and vegetables to nourish ourselves with. Um…" Harry trailed off, trying to think if there was anything else he needed to add and ignoring the spirits around him rolling their eyes or snickering.

_"Equality and Balance,"_ Ignotus muttered, hand covering his face as he shook his head and stepped back to try and separate himself from his hopeless student.

"Oh! Yeah! We eat this food and celebrate the equality of Death and the balance between life and death, day and night, light and dark," Harry added with a grin at Barty, who was sitting with his apple and bread, smirking to himself. Though his smirk changed into a grin when Harry included light and dark.

"Balance between light and dark?"

"Yep. Ignoring the current war you have going on. I mean, that I don't get. You do all know that without one you can't have the other, right? Without light, you can't see the dark and without dark you can't see the light. Too much of one will blind you to the other. Everything is about balance. Your Lord seems to get that more than the self-proclaimed light lord," Harry admitted with a grin, before he shrugged and bit into an apple.

"My Lord appreciates that the light can do much for our world just as the dark can, he just doesn't like how they want to get rid of the dark."

"True. The balance between light and dark is at unrest and something will have to be done about it soon or you'll have bigger problems on your hand than a headmaster with delusion of grandeur," Harry warned in a strangely serious voice that got Barty's attention. "Ooh! Bit too serious for the night, don't you think! Let's eat instead!"

Barty watched Harry in silence for a moment or two before he accepted the paper bowl of food that Harry handed him with a muttered thanks and the two started to eat in silence, with Harry absently listening to the quiet murmurs of the spirits around them chatting to one another.

Once most of the food Harry had brought with him had been eaten, Harry quickly packed away the remains and the paper bowls into the bag and then shifted to sit with his legs crossed.

"Now we close our eyes and give our appreciation to the balance and equality of life to our respective god. If you wish to try and connect with the Great Mother, then just think of Her whilst feeling the magic She gifted you with and then just thank Her for that gift," Harry told Barty before he closed his eyes and mentally connected with his own gift Death had given him.

_"Do not forget to thank Him for your more recent gifts He has given you,"_ Ignotus told him and Harry gave an almost absent-minded nod as he felt the death energy rushing through his body.

'I give thanks to you, Lord Death, for the gifts you have given me throughout my life. For allowing me the power to commune with those who have passed on. For giving me the chance to prove myself to my family. And for protecting me whenever you have the chance. Thank you for gracing me with your protection and for trusting me to spread your word. Tonight I give thanks for your trust in me to keep the balance between life and death, and light and dark, and I hope I do not fail you,' Harry thought as he concentrated on the death energy flowing through him, then smiled widely as he felt a surge in his energy and the sensation of someone brushing their hands through his hair before a light kiss was pressed to his forehead, leaving that spot tingling for minutes afterwards.

Harry opened his eyes once he had regained his breath and was no longer in any danger of giggling or doing anything else that might make him look like a moron, and glanced over to see Barty was still silently sitting across from him with his eyes closed. Moments later a light gust of wind drifted over them and Barty gave a shudder before opening his eyes.

"That was quite the experience."

"You felt Her then?" Harry asked excitedly, earner to know if his friend had managed to appease the god that had gifted him with his magic.

"I did. My magic feels fresher than it has in ages. It's almost like I've been cleansed of anything bad that may have been influencing my magic. I don't know how to explain it. It's quite something."

"Well, She doesn't really see anything wrong with dark or light magic. She doesn't care what you do with the magic She gifted you with. I imagine She cleansed your spirit and magic of any harm Azkaban might have done to it. Though I am only guessing really. Well, come on!" Harry said suddenly, standing up and holding out a hand for Barty to grab and tugging him to stand as well.

"What do we do now?"

"Well, now we have about an hour before we get to the part of the night that you don't want a part of and so we'll generally just wander over to the copse at the edge of the wards and offer the trees libations whilst also sharing the gossip of the Death Eaters. Which, admittedly is less a part of the nightly celebrations and more my insatiable nosiness," Harry added with a grin, which widened when Antioch snickered and Ignotus shoved him with an admonishment to not encourage him. Barty just stared at him silently before he shrugged and followed behind Harry and started to talk about the latest drama going on between the LeStranges.

* * *

An hour later found Harry saying a quick goodnight to Barty and then heading back into the copse of trees alone to where the spirits of his family and friends were waiting.

"So, now we start the real celebrations, yes?" Harry asked with a bright smile, getting answering smiles back and a tall, willowy man with long curly dirty blond hair and a narrow but handsome face stepped forward. "Ranulph! How are you? Did you like the garland I gave you this year?"

_"I am fine, Horatio. And yes, your garland is lovely. Thank you for the offering. You know you will always be welcome to use my grave should you need it,"_ Ranulph told him, moving forward to embrace Harry before they took a step back from one another and Harry quickly started to take his robes off.

"I'm glad! Do you think Our Lord will be stopping by tonight? Not that he ever has before, but I just wondered what with the way things are picking up in the wizarding world and my being dragged into it, if He'd make an exception this year."

_"I do not think He will be gracing us with His presence this year other than the blessing He gave you earlier. However, I do not claim to be an expert in how Our Lord thinks, so who knows?" _Ignotus said as Harry pulled a bag he'd left in the trees earlier out and took out the incense sticks of myrrh and sage that he'd put in there and carefully placed them in gaps in the branches around him before lighting them.

"Well, it doesn't really matter if He does or doesn't show up. He's already given me His blessing and accepted my thanks, so I can't ask for any more," Harry admitted with a small shrug before he took out uncut stones of sapphire and lapis lazuli and balanced them on random branches in the small clearing.

_"You know He will aid you however He can, but this is more a struggle for mortals of this land. He cannot involve Himself to the point He neglects he passing souls of those not involved,"_ Antioch pointed out as Harry moved to the centre of the small clearing and breathed in the smoke of the incense, before giving a small nod.

"I know. And like I said, I understand. He is the end of all things. He can't be expected to interfere in such a small spat."

_"It is not so small anymore. The balance has been upset in a dangerous way and soon it will have catastrophic results for the wizarding world and possibly for all beings on this island, if not further afield. I believe that is why He is not against necromancers becoming known once more and why the Great Mother made Herself known tonight for the first time in centuries,"_ Ignotus said with a look of discomfort on his face.

"Then we will need to find a way to make the balance between light and dark right once more. Starting with getting my brother out of his war. With the loss of Dumbledore's main and possibly only weapon, the light will lose some of their hold and the dark will be able to gain back some ground."

_"I fear it will not be as easy as you are making it sound. There is unrest in this land. Others are beginning to take notice."_

* * *

In three different places on the grounds of Riddle Manor, three men were all watching the proceedings happening in the copse, able to glance the lone figure between the trees and each wondering just what he was doing.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes as the smoke of the incense swirled around the young necromancer eerily, in a way that was not natural and brought with it a feeling of power that made even Lord Voldemort uncomfortable and goosebumps to appear on his arms. Something other than an innocent Mabon celebration was happening in those trees.

Marcus stood at the window in his room, looking down at Harry's Mabon celebrations and possibly wishing he was closer so he could clearly see everything that was happening in the copse. He wouldn't admit it to anyone but he had mentally berated himself for not accepting Harry's offer of joining the earlier celebrations when he had learnt that Crouch Jnr had joined the celebrations. The growing friendship of the two was setting Marcus on edge and he wasn't entirely sure why. His attention was dragged away from his thoughts as he noticed the feeling of power rise from outside and the smoke of the incense swirl and dance around the naked figure in the trees. He hoped the feeling of foreboding that had suddenly washed over him didn't mean Harry was in immediate danger.

Barty had lingered in the shadows of the doorway after he'd said goodnight to Harry and watched the small necromancer make his way back to the copse of trees. He'd watched Harry seemingly greet who he assumed were spirits in there before taking his robes off and lighting incense, as well as placing something else Barty hadn't been able to make out. Now he straightened where he was leaning against the doors as he felt _something_ creep over him and watched as the incense smoke became thicker and almost obscured his view of Harry, and he noticed something else there with Harry. Barty squinted and tried to make out what it was that Harry was now talking to before he suddenly got the sensation that he should leave and never mention what it was he'd seen. Long practice of acknowledging that gut feeling made Barty give a small nod and then he silently slipped between the slightly opened doors and quietly closed them. Something had happened and whatever it was, he was not supposed to know anymore about it than he already did.

* * *

Harry had barely had time to acknowledge Antioch's slightly ominous warning before he felt a rise in power building beneath him and felt the smoke of the incense mixing together and wrapping around him, warming his slightly chilled body and making the hair on the back of his neck rise. Suddenly the power surged and Harry opened his eyes with a gasp, forcing himself not to take a step back when he noticed a tall, muscular man standing before him wearing simple looking brown trousers and with jet black hair that had leaves and thin branches twined in it. The man was a good foot - at least - taller than Harry and had tanned skin with more leaves, branches and vines twined over his left shoulder, down to his right hip and then twisted and looped around his waist and down his left leg. Harry followed the flow of the vines, down to the mans bare feet before looking back up to the man's handsome face, partially obscured by a thick, wavy black beard interspaced with green and golden leaves.

"Er…" Throughout his observation of the strange man, Harry had noticed that the spirits had all left, leaving behind only Ignotus, who was silently watching the man and had moved so he was standing close behind Harry, resting his smokey hand on Harry's shoulder.

_"Thu cnawan me," _the man's voice was deep and rough, leaving a shiver running down Harry's spine as those simple words seemed to be backed by masses of power.

"Yes."

_"Thu cnawan me."_

"I do."

_"Name me." _Harry opened his mouth to answer, to name the being before him, but couldn't get his words out before the man lurched forward and pressed his hand into Harry's chest. Harry choked on a gasp, looking down at the hand in his chest in stunned disbelief, before he looked up at the man. _"Name me!" _

The man then yanked his hand back and Harry collapsed to his knees, feeling like his blood had been replaced with ice and like all of his energy had left him. The man looked down at him before placing a hand on Harry's head and gently stroking his hair. He then crouched down so he was face to face with Harry and stroked his hand down Harry's face to cup his cheek. _"Thu cnawan me, Nightgenga. Name me."_ He then leant forward, pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead and Harry felt power being forced into him and through him. Testing his worth. Harry reached forward weakly to clutch at the man's shoulder, gripping a leaf as he did before he felt his remaining energy leave him and he collapsed forwards, staying conscious long enough to feel warm, rough-skinned hands catch him and gently lower him to the floor. _"Name me."_

* * *

**A/N - Yes, I know, I ****did**** say Marcus won the vote. Doesn't mean Barty isn't going to be friends with Harry. And they're not in a relationship yet, so Harry is totally allowed find Barty handsome… and Barty is well within his rights to stare at a naked Harry dancing outside… Er… maybe less so that last one. Though I don't imagine it's technically legal or even accepted. Then again, public nudity isn't either. So hey ho.**

**Ooh! Hands up who thought it was Death I was talking about in the previous chapter's A/N when I mentioned someone showing up in this chapter that wasn't supposed to for a while… :D **

**And finally, yes, Charlus will be making an appearance in the next chapter! And there will finally be some hints of a plot showing! Though to be fair, the main plot of this fic should have started to come to light in this chapter… *grins***

**Oh yes, and to the reviewer who was confused about the currency in Ireland. Northern Ireland use Pound Sterling, but the Republic of Ireland use Euros. **

**Fact of the chapter: **The Green Man (the god Harry talks to at the end) is talking a very ancient form of English that has it's origins from pre-Norman England. So around the 10th Century. Give or take a decade… XD What he says is 'you know me.', 'Name me,' and he calls Harry a night-demon. Or a traveller of the night.

**Less of a fact and more an amusing tidbit of the chapter (although it's also a fact…): **If anyone noticed, then yes, the use of the name Ranulph was somewhat deliberate. Ranulph Fiennes is an explorer, who is also the great-uncle (possibly. Something like that) of Ralph Fiennes, who played Lord Voldemort in the Harry Potter Movies… *grins* Check me out. All er… geeky and probably slightly stalkerish.


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